^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  *% 

Presented   by (3Ter\ .C^\ Q\ \)i^Ood^r\\j\\  ^ VC 

BV   4905    .B6    1868 

Bonar,  Horatius,  1808-1889 

The  morning  of  joy 


MORXIXG  OF  JOY; 


A  SEQUEL  TO  THE  xMGHT  OF  WEEPIXG. 


•'3o2  romtt^  m  tit  mornfns," 

PSAL.  XXX.  5. 


REV.  HORATIUS  BOI^'AR,  D.D., 

AITTHOE  OF  "HTMSS  OF  FAITH  AITB  HOPE,"   « NIGHT  OP 
"VTEEPIXG,"  ETC. 


NEW    YORK: 

ROBERT    CARTER    &    BROTHERS, 

No.    53.0   BKOAD-WAT. 

1868. 


CONTENTS. 


PA.6B 
PREFACE      V 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE   ANTICIPATIONS 1 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE   NIGHT-WATCH 11 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  EAENESTS  OF  THE  MORNING     ...    32 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   USE  OF   THESE   EARNESTS      ....  49 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   MORNING-STAR 59 

CHAPTER  YL 

THE  MORNING ,75 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   VICTORT   OVER   DEATH  ....  93 


IV  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  VIIL 

THE    REUNION 108 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  PRESENCE  OF  THE  LORD   ....   128 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE   KINGDOAI 150 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   GRACE 171 


CHAPTER  XIL 


THE  G.ORY 


190 


MORKIXG  OF  JOY. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    ANTICIPATIONS. 


The  Church  of  God  on  earth  is  not  what 
Ehe  seems  ;  nay,  is  what  she  seems  not.  She 
is  not  a  heggar,  yet  she  seems  one ;  she  is 
a  King's  hride,  yet  she  seems  not.  It  was 
so  with  her  Lord  while  here.  He  was  not 
vrhat  men  thought  him ;  he  was  what 
they  thought  him  not. 

It  is  in  this  way  that  the  world  is  put  to 
shame,  its  thoughts  confounded,  its  great- 
ness ahased  before  God.  And  it  is  in  this 
way  that  Divine  wisdom  gets  large  space 
over  which  to  spread  itself,  step  hy  step, 
and  to  open  out  its  infinite  resources  slowly 

B 


Z  THE   ANTICIPATIONS. 

and  with  care,  (like  one  exhibiting  ni« 
treasures,)  that  no  part,  no  turn  in  all  its 
windings  may  be  left  unobserved.  It  is 
not  the  result  only  that  God  desires  that 
we  should  see  and  wonder  at,  but  the  pro-' 
cess  by  which  it  is  reached,  so  unlikely  to 
effect  it,  yet  so  steadily  moving  forward  to 
its  end,  and  so  strangely  successful  in  bring- 
ing about  that  end.  The  planting  of  the 
"  trees  of  God  "  in  Eden,  in  full  strength 
and  fruitfulness  at  once,  was  not  such  an 
exhibition  of  wisdom  as  that  which  we 
ourselves  see  in  yearly  process  before  us, 
when  God  out  of  a  small,  shapeless  seed 
brings  a  stately  pine  or  palm. 

In  truth,  this  is  the  law  of  our  world. 
It  might  not  be  so  at  first  in  Eden,  when 
only  the  result  was  given  to  view ;  but  it 
has  been  so  since,  and  is  so  now,  for  God 
is  showing  us  most  minutely  how  "  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  "  all  things  are 
made,  and  we  among  the  rest,  in  soul  and 
in   body,   in   our  first   birth   and  in  our 


THE   ANTICIPATIONS.  8 

second,  in  our  natural  and  in  our  spiritual 
growth. 

The  tree,  in  winter,  is  not  what  it  ap- 
pears— dead;  nay,  it  is  what  it  appears 
not — alive  ;  full  in  every  part,  root,  stem, 
and  branch,  of  vigorous  though  hid- 
den vitality,  a  vitality  which  frosts  and 
storms  are  but  maturing,  not  quenching. 
All  summer-life  is  there  ;  all  autumn 
fruitfulness  is  there  ;  tliough  neither  visi- 
ble. It  wraps  up  within  itself  the  germs 
of  future  verdure,  and  awaits  the  coming 
spring.  So  is  it  with  the  church,  in  this 
age  of  wintry  night;  for  it  is  both  night 
and  winter  with  her.  Her  present  condi- 
tion ill  accords  with  her  prospects.  No 
one,  in  looking  at  her,  could  guess  what  she 
either  is  or  is  to  be  ;  could  conceive  what 
God  has  in  store  for  her.  For  eye  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  seeing  of  it,  nor  ear 
with  the  hearing  of  it.  No  one,  in  observ- 
ing her  garb  or  her  deportment,  or  the 
treatment  she  meets  with  at  the  hands  of 
B  2 


I  THE    ANTICIPATIONS. 

men,  or  the  sharp,  heavy  discipline  through 
which  slie  is  passing,  could  take  the  mea- 
sure of  her  hopes.  Faith  finds  difficulty 
in  realizing  her  prospects,  and  she  can 
hardly  at  times  credit  the  greatness  of  her 
heritage,  when  thinking  of  what  she  is  and 
remembering  what  she  has  been. 

It  often  seems  strange  to  us,  and  it  must 
seem  much  more  so  to  unfallen  beings,  that 
saints  should  be  found  at  all  in  such  a 
world, — a  world  without  God,  a  world  of 
atheists, — a  Avorld  that  from  the  days  of 
Cain  has  been  the  rejecter  of  his  Son,  both 
as  the  sacrifice  for  sin  and  as  the  heir  of 
all  things.  It  is  not  on  such  a  spot  that 
we  should  naturally  expect  to  find  sons  of 
God.  Next  to  hell,  it  is  the  unlikeliest 
place  for  a  soul  that  loves  God  to  dwell  in, 
even  for  a  day  :  and  if  a  stranger,  travers- 
ing: the  universe  in  search  of  God's  little 
flock,  his  chosen  ones,  were  to  put  to  us 
the  question,  "Where  are  they  to  be  found," 
certainly  he  would  be  astonished  when  told 


THE    ANTlCirATIONS.  5 

that  they  were  in  that  very  woild  wheie 
Satan  reigned,  and  from  which  God  had 
been  cast  out !  Would  he  not  say,  "  Either 
this  is  a  mistake  and  a  chance,  or  else  it  is 
the  very  depth  of  unfathomable  wisdom." 
For  we  do  not  go  to  the  crater's  slope  for 
verdure  ;  nor  for  flowers  to  the  desert ;  nor 
for  the  plants  of  heaven  to  the  shores  of  the 
lake  of  fire.  Yet  it  is  so  with  the  church. 
It  is  strange  perhaps  to  find  a  Joseph  in 
Egypt,  or  a  Rahab  in  Jericho,  or  an  Oba- 
diah  in  the  house  of  Ahab  ;  but  it  is  more 
amazing  to  find  saints  in  the  world  at  all. 
Yet  they  are  here.  In  spite  of  every  thing 
ungenial  in  soil  and  air,  they  are  here. 
They  never  seem  to  become  acclimatized, 
yet  they  do  not  die  out,  but  are  ever  re- 
newed. The  enemy  labours  to  uproot 
them,  but  they  are  ineradicable.  Nay, 
they  thrive  and  bear  fruit.  It  is  a  miracle ; 
but  yet  so  it  is.  Here  the  great  Husband- 
man is  rearing  his  plants  from  generation 

to   generation.      Here    the   great    Pottei 
B  3 


S  THE   ANTICIPATIONS. 

fashions  his  vessels.  Here  the  great 
Master-builder  hews  and  polishes  the  stones 
for  his  eternal  temple. 

Thus,  then,  one  characteristic  of  the 
church  is,  the  unlikeness  of  her  present  to 
her  future  condition.  It  is  this  that  marks 
her  out,  that  isolates  her,  as  a  gem  in  the 
heart  of  a  rock,  as  a  vein  of  gold  in  a  mine. 
Originally  she  belonged  to  the  mass,  but 
she  was  drawn  apart  from  it,  or  it  fell  from 
off  her  and  left  her  alone,  like  a  pillar 
among  ruins.  Outwardly  she  retains  much 
of  her  former  self;  but  inwardly  she  has 
undergone  a  change  that  has  assimilated 
her  to  "  the  world  tp  come."  Thus  her 
affinities  and  her  sympathies  are  all  with 
that  better  world.  Her  dwelling  is  still 
here,  and  in  external  appearance  she  is 
much  as  she  used  to  be ;  but  the  internal 
transformation  has  made  her  feel  that  this 
is  not  her  home,  and  filled  her  with  an 
ticipations  of  the  city  and  the  kingdom  to 
come,  of  which   she  has   been  made  the 


TITE   ANTICirATlONS.  7 

heir.  Her  kindred  according  to  the  flesh 
are  here,  but  she  is  now  allied  to  Jehovah 
by  the  ties  of  blood,  and  this  draws  her 
soul  upwards. 

Cut  off  from  a  home  and  a  heritage 
here,  yet  assured  of  both  hereafter,  she  of 
necessity  lives  a  life  of  anticipation.  Giv- 
ing credit  to  the  message  of  grace,  and 
resting  on  the  blood  of  Him  through  whose 
cross  that  grace  came  down  to  her,  she  an- 
ticipates her  acquittal  at  the  judgment. 
Realizing  her  oneness  with  the  risen  and 
ascended  Christ,  she  feels  as  if  already  seat- 
ed with  him  in  heavenly  places.  Looking 
forward  to  the  arrival  of  the  King,  she  an- 
ticipates the  kingdom.  In  darkness  she 
anticipates  the  light;  in  sorrow  she  an- 
ticipates the  joy ;  in  the  night  she  antici- 
pates the  morning;  in  shame  she  antici- 
pates the  glory.  "All  are  mine,"  she  says, 
"  whether  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or 
the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or  things  pre- 
sent, or  things  to  come  ;    all  are  mine  ;  fol 


8  THE   ANTICITATIONS. 

I  am  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's."  In 
these  anticipations  she  lives.  They  make 
up  a  large  portion  of  her  daily  heing. 
They  cheer  her  onward  in  spite  of  the 
rough  wastes  she  has  to  pass  through. 
They  comfort  her  ;  or  when  they  do  not 
quite  succeed  in  this,  they  at  least  calm 
and  soothe  her.  They  do  not  turn  mid- 
night into  noon,  but  they  make  it  less  op- 
pressive, and  take  off  "  the  night  side  of 
nature." 

"  I  am  not  what  I  seem,"  she  says  to 
herself;  "and  this  is  joy.  I  am  not  the 
beggared  outcast  that  the  world  takes  me 
for.  I  am  richer  far"  than  they.  They 
have  their  riches  now,  but  mine  are  com- 
ing when  theirs  are  gone.  They  have 
their  joys  now ;  but  mine  are  coming  when 
theirs  have  ended  in  eternal  weeping.  I 
live  in  the  future ;  my  treasure  is  in 
heaven,  and  my  heart  has  gone  up  to  be 
where  my  treasure  is.  I  shall  soon  be  seen 
to  be  what  I  now  seem  not.    My  kingdom 


THE   ANTICIPATIONS. 


is  at  haiifl ;  my  sun  is  about  to  rise ;  1 
shall  soon  see  the  King  in  his  beauty  ;  I 
shall  soon  be  keeping  festival,  and  the  joy 
of  my  promised  morning  will  make  me 
forget  that  I  ever  wept." 

Thus  she  lives  in  the  morning,  ere  the 
morning  has  come.  She  takes  a  wide  sweep 
of  vision,  round  and  round,  without  a  limit  • 
for  faith  has  no  horizon  ;  it  looks  beyond 
life,  and  earth,  and  the  ages,  into  eternity. 

Beyond  the  death-bed  and  beyond  the 
gi-ave,  she  sees  resurrection.  Beyond  the 
broken  hearts  and  severed  bands  of  time,  she 
realizes  .and  clasps  the  eternal  love-links  ; 
beyond  the  troiibles  of  the  hour,  and  be- 
yond the  storm  that  is  to  wreck  the  worlds 
she  casts  her  eye,  and  feels  as  if  transported 
into  the  kingdom  that  cannot  be  moved, 
as  if  already  she  had  taken  up  her  abodfc 
in  the  New  Salem,  the  city  of  peace  and 
righteousness.  Beyond  the  region  of  the 
falling  leaf  she  passes  on  to  the  green 
pastures,  and  sits  down  under  the  branches 


10  THE    ANTICIPATIONS. 

of  the  tree  of  life  which  is  in  the  midst 
of  the  paradise  of  God.  Losing  sight  of 
the  bitterness  of  absence  from  the  beloved 
of  her  heart,  she  enters  the  bridal-chamber 
and  tastes  the  bridal  joy  ;  keeping  festival 
even  in  the  desert,  and  enjoying  the  sab 
bath  rest  amid  the  tumults  of  a  stormy 
world. 


CHAPTER  n. 

THE   NIGHT-WATCH. 

We  are  not  of  the  world,  though  we  are 
%n  the  world.  So  "  we  are  not  of  the 
night,"  though  we  are  in  the  night.  We 
are  "  children  of  the  day ; "  we  belong  to 
the  day,  and  the  day  belongs  to  us,  as  our 
true  heritage,  though  it  has  not  yet  dawned. 
Hope  rests  there;  and  though  deferred,  will 
not  always  tarry,  nor  when  it  comes  will  it 
shame  our  trust.  "  When  the  desire  Com- 
eth it  shall  be  a  tree  of  life." 

Night  is  around  us  still ;  but  it  is  not 
merely  one  of  weeping,  it  is  also  one  of 
watching.  No  sorrow  is  to  make  us  less 
watchful ;  nay,  much  more.  So  far  from 
tribulation  throwing  us  off  our  guard,  it 


12  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

should  lead  to  added  vigilance.  It  pre- 
vents our  falling  asleep,  as  we  should  cer 
tainly  do  were  all  peaceful  and  prosperous. 
It  makes  the  night  more  cold  and  bitter  to 
us,  thereby  rendering  us  more  weary  of  it, 
and  more  eager  for  the  day.  Were  the 
night  air  mild,  and  the  night  sky  clear,  we 
should  grow  contented  with  it,  and  cease 
to  watch  for  day-break. 

This  is  our  night-watch.  To  this  the 
Master  has  appointed  us  during  his  absence. 
"  Watch  ye  therefore  ;  for  ye  know  not 
when  the  master  of  the  house  cometh,  at 
even,  or  at  midnight,  or  at  the  cock -crow- 
ing, or  in  the  morning  :  lest  coming  sud- 
denly he  find  you  sleeping.  And  what  I 
say  unto  you  I  say  unto  all,  Watch,''^ 
(Mark  xiii.  35 — 37.)  It  is  the  prospect  of 
morning  and  of  the  Master's  return  tliat 
keeps  us  watching, — especially  in  these 
last  days,  when  watch  after  watch  has  come 
and  gone,  and  he  has  not  yet  arrived. 
"  His  going  forth  is  prepared  as  the  morn 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  2S 

ing"  (Hos.  vi.  3)  ;  and  that  morning  can- 
not  now  be   distant. 

The  church  must  fulfil  ner  night-watch, 
AVhether  long  or  short,  perilous  or  easy, 
she  must  fulfil  it.  It  is  watching  to  which 
she  Is  specially  called ;  and  sadly  will  shes 
belie  her  profession,  as  well  as  disobey  hei 
Lord,  if  she  watches  not.  She  need  not 
think  to  substitute  other  duties  for  this,  as 
more  needful,  more  important,  or  more  in 
character.  She  dare  not  say,  "  1  love,  I 
believe,  I  pray,  I  praise,  why  should  I  also 
watch  ?  will  not  these  do  instead  of  watch- 
ing, oris  not  watching  included  in  these  ?" 
Her  Lord  has  bidden  her  watch,  and  no 
other  duty,  no  other  grace,  can  be  a  substi- 
tute or  an  excuse  for  this. 

She  is  to  believe ;  but  that  is  not  all  ;•  she 
is  also  to  watch.  She  is  to  rejoice ;  but 
that  is  not  all ;  she  is  also  to  watch.  She 
is  to  love ;  but  that  is  not  all ;  she  is  also 
to  watch.  She  is  to  wait ;  but  that  is  not 
all ;  she  is  also  to  watch.     She  is  to  long  • 


14  THE   NIGHT-WATCH. 

but  that  is  not  all ;  she  is  also  to  ttatch. 
This  is  to  he  her  special  attitude,  and  no- 
thing can  compensate  for  it.  By  this  she 
is  to  he  known  in  all  ages,  as  the  watching 
one.  By  this  the  world  is  to  he  made  to 
feel  the  difference  hetween  itself  and  her. 
By  this  she  is  specially  to  show  how  truly 
she  feels  herself  to  he  a  stranger  here. 

Men  ask  her.  Why  stand  ye  gazing  up 
into  heaven  ?  Her  reply  is,  "  I  am  watch- 
ing." Men  taunt  h^r,  and  say.  Why  this 
unrestfulness  ?  Her  reply  is,  "  I  am  watch- 
ing." Men  think  it  strange  that  she  runs 
not  with  them  to  the  same  excess  of  riot 
(1  Peter  iv.  4.)  She  tdls  them,  "  I  am 
watching."  They  ask  her  to  come  forth 
and  join  their  gaiety,  to  come  forth  and 
sing  their  songs,  to  come  forth  and  taste 
their  pleasures,  that  thus  they  may  teach 
her  to  forget  her  sorrows.  She  refuses, 
saying,  "  I  dare  not,  I  am  watching.'* 
The  scoffer  mocks  her,  and  says.  Where  is 
the  promise  of  his  coming  ?  She  heeds  not. 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  15 

but  continues  watching,  and  clasps  her 
hope  more  firmly. 

Sometimes  too  a  feeble,  doubting,  or,  it 
may  be,  inconsistent  saint,  asks  in  wonder. 
How  are  you  so  strong,  so  hardy,  so  able 
for  the  struggle,  so  successful  in  the  battle  ? 
She  answers,  "  I  watch."  Or  he  asks, 
How  do  you  keep  up  a  tone  so  elevated, 
and  maintain  a  walk  so  close,  so  consist- 
ent, so  unearthly  ?  She  answers,  "  1 
watch.'*  Or  he  asks.  How  do  you  over- 
come sloth,  and  selfishness,  and  love  of 
ease  ;  or  check  fretfulness  and  anxiety,  or 
gain  the  victory  over  a  delaying  spirit  ? 
She  answers,  "  I  watch."  Or  h^  asks. 
How  do  you  make  head  against  your  fears, 
and  challenge  danger,  and  defy  enemies, 
and  keep  under  the  flesh  ?  She  replies,  "  I 
watch."  Or  he  asks,  How  do  you  wrestle 
with  your  griefs,  and  dry  up  your  tears, 
and  heal  your  wounds,  nay,  glory  in 
tribulation  ?    She  answers,  "  I  watch." 

Oh  what  this  watching  can  do,  to  on* 
c  2 


16  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

who  understands  it  aright!  Faith  alone 
will  not  do.  Love  alone  will  not  do.  Ex- 
pectation alone  will  not  do.  Obedience 
alone  will  not  do.  There  must  he  watching. 
And  this  watching  takes  for  granted  the 
suddenness  and  uncertainty  of  the  day  of 
the  Lord.  It  does  not  say,  the  Lord  must 
come  in  my  day ;  but  it  says,  the  Lord  may 
come  in  my  day,  therefore  I  must  be  on  the 
outlook.  This  may  come  is  the  secret  of  a 
watchful  spirit.  Without  it  we  cannot 
watch.  We  may  love,  and  hope,  and  wait ; 
but  we  cannot  watch.  Our  lamps  are  to 
be  always  trimmed.  Why  ?  Not  merely 
because  the  Bridegroom  is  to  come,  but 
because  we  know  not  how  soon  he  may 
come.  Our  loins  are  to  be  always  girt  up. 
Why?  Not  simply  because  we  know  that 
there  is  to  be  a  coming ;  but  because  we 
know  not  when  that  coming  is  to  be.* 

♦  Thus  one  wrote  two  hundred  years  ago :  "  All  ia 
night  that  is  here,  therefore  sigh  and  long  for  the  dawn- 
ing of  that  morning,  and  the  breaking  of  that  day  of  the 
coming  of  the  Son  of  man,  when  the  shadows  shall  He* 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  17 

The  Lord  foresaw  the  spirit  of  im watch- 
fulness into  which  his  people  would  be  apt 
to  fall,  while  he  tarried,  and  he  warns  us 
against  it.  He  would  have  us  always  to 
remember  that  there  will  be  a  danger  o^ 
our  becoming  easy-minded  and  earthly 
content  with  his  absence  instead  of  mourn- 
ing because  of  it;  content  with  his  de- 
lay instead  of  joining  in  the  primitive 
cry,  "  How  long."  He  saw  that  the  world 
■would  throw  us  off  our  guard;  that  few 
"would  really  keep  awake  and  watch ;  that 
many  would  get  tired  with  watching,  and 
find  out  excuses  for  not  watching ;  that 
many  would  sit  down  and  try  to  make 
themselves  comfortable  here  without  him. 
Hence  he  so  often  repeated  the  warning — 

Bwav.  Persuade  yourself  that  the  King  is  coming. 
Wait  with  the  wearied  night — watch  for  the  breaking  of 
the  eastern  sky,  and  thi7ik  that  ye  have  not  a  morrow." 
— Samuel  Rutherford.  If,  as  the  same  wTiter  says, 
"love  is  sick  to  hear  tell  of  a  to-morrow,"  how  much 
»crs  of  a  thousaiid  years ! 

c  3 


'8  THE    NKJHT- WATCH. 

Watch!    Hence  he  added,  "lest  coming 
suddenly  he  find  you  sleeping.'*^ 

His  desire  is,  that  we  should  be  so 
watching,  that  when  he  cometli  and 
knocketh,  we  may  open  unto  him  immedi- 
ately. (Luke  xii.  36.)  And  he  pronounces 
a  special  blessing  upon  those  servants  whom 
he  finds  thus,  promising  that  "  he  will  gird 
himself,  and  make  them  sit  down  to  meat, 
and  will  come  forth  and  serve  them."  To 
be  in  such  an  attitude  of  watchfulness  as 
that  we  shall  be  ready  to  open  to  him  im- 
mediately,  is  that  to  which  he  has  promised 
so  special  a  reward,  so  wondrous  an  honour. 
Ah !  who  amongst  us  is  in  this  condition 
in  these  last  days  ?  Should  we  be  ready  to 
open  to  him  immediately  were  he  arriving 
now  ?  Should  we  not  be  thrown  into  con- 
fusion at  the  news  of  his  coming,  like 
servants  unprepared  for  their  master's  re- 
turn, and  not  counting  on  it  so  soon? 
Should  we  not  have  to  be  getting  ready^ 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  19 

when  we  should  be  opening  the  door? 
Should  we  not  be  running  to  put  on  our 
needful  and  proper  raiment  instead  of  go- 
ing forth  to  welcome  him  ?  Ah,  what  con- 
fusion in  the  household,  what  amazement, 
what  fear,  what  bustle,  what  running  to 
and  fro,  would  there  be  in  our  day,  were 
the  tidings  to  be  brought  us,  "  the  Lord 
has  come  ! " 

In  the  repeated  command  to  watch,  there 
is  much  of  rebuke.  The  Lord  could  not 
trust  us  to  remember  it  of  ourselves,  or 
obey  unbidden.  Had  he  been  able  to 
count  on  perfect  love  in  us  to  himself — 
love  full  and  deep  like  his  own,  would  he 
have  thought  of  such  a  command  I  w^ould 
it  have  been  needed  ?  It  would  not.  All 
that  would  have  been  needful  would  have 
been  to  tell  us  that  he  meant  to  return ; 
love  would  have  supplied  the  rest,  and,  of 
itself,  have  made  us  watchful ;  love  would 
have  made  it  impossible  that  it  should  be 
otherwise.      It  would  have  needed  neithe? 


20  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

the  command  nor  the  declaration  of  uncer- 
tainty and  suddenness.  It  would  have 
anticipated  all  these.  It  would  have  acted 
upon  them  unbidden.  But  the  Lord  could 
not  trust  us.  He  could  not  trust  our  love; 
and  therefore  he  adds  the  command,  there- 
fore he  reiterates  the  warning.  It  is 
strange  and  sad  indeed,  that  neither  the 
power  of  love,  nor  the  awe  of  the  command, 
can  quicken  us  into  watchfulness  or  rouse 
us  into  preparation. 

The  announcements  of  the  suddenness 
of  His  coming  are  very  distinct  and  par- 
ticular. There  is  nothing  vague  about 
them  ;  nothing  to  take  off  the  edge  of  the 
warning  which  they  contain.  They  are 
much  more  specific  and  repeated  than  those 
of  His  first  coming.  His  first  advent  took 
the  church  by  surprise,  even  though  he 
had  set  the  time  and  numbered  the  years. 
How  much  more  then  is  his  second  coming 
likely  to  surprise  us,  when,  by  the  way  in 
which  he  has  announced  it,  he  has  pre- 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  21 

vented  us  from  counting  on  any  interval  at 
all !  Yet  we  watch  not !  Neither  his  mea 
suring  the  time  in  the  one  case,  nor  his 
leaving  it  unmeasured  in  the  other,  pro- 
duces the  designed  effect.  "  When  the 
Son  of  man  cometh,  shall  he  find  faith  on 
the  earth  ? " 

During  this  our  night-watch,  faith  is  to 
be  ever  vigorous  and  in  motion.  For  it  is 
the  root  of  watchfulness.  Without  faith 
one  can  hjirdly  have  the  idea  of  what  it  is 
to  watch.  For  all  the  objects  towards 
which  watchfulness  turns,  are  connected 
with  things  unseen, — an  unseen  Savionr, 
and  an  unseen  kingdom. 

When  first  we  knew  the  Lord  and  be- 
lieved on  him  as  the  peace-maker,  not  only 
were  we  freely  forgiven,  but  we  were  de- 
livered from  a  present  evil  world.  Things 
present  fell  off  from  us  ;  things  to  come 
gathered  round  us.  What  was  once 
shadowy  became  real ;  what  once  seemed 
real  seemed  then  a  shadow.  Christ's  wordg 


22  THE   NIGHT-WATCH. 

became  real  words  ;  his  truths  real  truths  j 
his  promises  real  promises.  All  else  ap- 
peared unreal.  The  veil  was  not  with- 
drawn, but  we  realized  what  was  within  it. 
The  future  did  not  become  the  present,  nor 
the  invisible  the  visible  ;  but  we  felt  as  if 
they  were  so.  "  Our  faith  was  the  sub- 
stance of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of 
things  not  seen."  Believing  then  that  the 
Lord  is  coming,  that  the  time  is  short,  that 
the  interval  is  uncertain,  and  that  his  arrival 
will  be  sudden,  we  watch.  Unbelief  throws 
us  off  our  guard  ;  but  faith  sends  us  to  our 
watch-tower.  We  know  what  our  Lord 
meant  when  he  said,  "  Blessed  are  they 
that  have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed." 
Or,  altering  the  words  of  our  Lord,  may 
we  not  also  say,  "  Blessed  are  they  that 
have  seen  and  yet  have  not  believed  ?"  To 
see  and  yet  not  to  believe,  is  one  of  the 
things  that  faith  teaches  us,  and  one  of  the 
things  that  quicken  watchfulness.  We 
look  upon  a  world  full  of  ungodliness,  and 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  2S 

yet  believe  not  that  God  has  forsaken  the 
earth.  We  see  the  world's  wisdom  worship- 
ped, but  yet  believe  not  that  it  is  wisdom. 
We  see  the  power  of  evil,  and  yet  believe 
not  that  evil  shall  triumph.  We  see  con- 
fusion every  where,  and  yet  believe  not  but 
that  order  is  God's  law.  We  see  a  divided 
church,  and  yet  believe  that  the  church  is 
one.  We  see  mighty  kingdoms  ruling,  and 
yet  believe  not  that  they  shall  abide.  We 
see  the  saints  trodden  down,  but  yet  be- 
lieve not  in  their  shame  or  extinction.  We 
look  upon  the  tomb  of  the  righteous,  and 
yet  believe  not  that  he  is  dead.  We  see 
the  church's  persecutions  and  defeats,  and 
yet  believe  not  only  that  she  is  conqueror, 
but  invincible.  We  see  the  march  of  Anti- 
christ, but  yet  believe  not  in  his  progress, 
save  as  a  progress  to  doom.  We  see  the 
world's  joy,  and  yet  believe  not  that  it  is 
joy.  We  see  the  saint's  sorrow,  and  yet 
believe  not  that  he  is  sorrowful.  We  see 
night,   thick,   deep  night  around  us,  but 


24  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

yet  we  believe  not  in  the  night,  but  in  the 
day. 

Thus  faith  triumphs.  We  believe,  we 
trust,  we  hope  ;  and,  so  doing,  we  stand 
above  the  world.  We  lift  up  our  eyes  to 
the  hills  whence  cometh  our  help.  We 
look  towards  the  east,  where  the  dawn 
breaks.  We  watch  for  the  morning.  Our 
night-watch  has  been  long  and  weary ; 
but  the  morning  will  soon  end  it.*  The 
watching,  the  waiting,  and  the  hoping 
will  then  be  done,  but  the  loving  will  be 
for  ever. 

We  ivatch :  for  we  know  of  no  interval 
between  us  and  the  Lord's  appearing. 
The  hour  of  our  meeting  with  him,  and 
with  those  whom  we  have  loved  and  lost, 
may  be  nigh  at  hand.  Sooner  than  we 
think,  we  may  be  joined  together  insepar- 
d,bly,  our  bodies  clothed  with  resurrection- 

*  '*  Tell  her  that  the  day  is  near  the  dawning,  the 
sky  is  riving,  (cleaving,)  our  Beloved  will  be  on  us  ere 
erer  we  be  aware." — Rutherford. 


THE   NIGHT-WATCH.  25 

health,  and  our  souls  rejoicing  in  holinese 
and  love. 

We  watch  ;  for  it  is  night,  and  though 
we  are  not  children  of  the  night,  still  the 
night  with  its  shadows  rests  heavily  upon 
lis,  making  us  with  wistful  keenness  to 
look  out  for  its  passing  away.  We  grow 
more  dissatisfied  with  it  as  it  deepens.  It 
brings  so  many  griefs,  it  gathers  round  us 
so  many  temptations,  it  calls  up  so  many 
dangers,  it  gives  courage  to  so  many 
enemies,  that  we  grow  troubled  at  its  last- 
ing so  long.  Yet  we  cannot  shake  it  off. 
God's  purpose  must  be  served,  and  his 
time  must  run  oiit.  Till  then  let  us  pos- 
sess our  souls  in  patience,  whilst  watch- 
ing for  day-spring,  and  stirring  up  our 
souls  with  the  assurance  that  we  know  of 
nothing  between  us  and  the  ending  of  our 
long:  nisrht-watch. 

We  ivatch  ;  for  the  day  is  ours,  with  all 
that  it  contains  of  gladness  and  sunshine. 
We  are  weary  of  the  night,  and  we  rejoice 


26  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

that  it  IS  not  ours;  though  we  are  in  it  j 
but  that  the  day  is  ours.  Just  as  we  can 
say,  "  the  kingdom  is  ours,"  so  we  can  say, 
"  the  day  is  ours."  And  we  watch  for  it 
as  being  ours.  Its  light  is  ours  ;  its  blue 
sky  is  ours  ;  its  mild  air  is  ours  ;  its  cheer- 
ful sounds  are  ours  ;  its  friendly  greetings 
are  ours  ;  all  that  it  calls  forth  of  joy,  and 
health,  and  purity  are  ours.  Need  any  won- 
der that  we  should  watch  for  such  a  day  ? 
We  vxitch  ;  foi  the  night  is  far  spent. 
Not  only  do  we  know  of  nought  before  vs 
ere  the  Lord  arrive  ;  but  we  know  of  much 
behind  us.  Hours,  years,  ages  have  gone 
by.  And  if  the  whole  night  was  to  be 
brief,  only  "  a  little  while,"  then  surely 
very  much  of  it  must  now  be  over.  "  The 
night  is  far  spent,"  says  the  apostle  \  liter- 
ally, it  is  "  cut  oiF,"  it  \^  foreshortened,  that 
is,  it  is  becoming  shorter,  it  is  drawing  to 
a  close.*     Behind  us  are  lying  centuries  oi 

•  7j  i/u£  irpoE/coi/^Ei/,  Rom.  xiii.  12.    Thus  Rutherford 
expresses  the  idea  of  the  passage.     After  telling  us  that 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH.  2? 

tears  and  shadows  ;  the  greater  part  of  the 
little  while  Jiiust  be  past ;  the  day  must  be 
at  hand.  The  nearness  makes  the  thoiisht 
of  day  doubly  welcome.  We  bend  towards 
it  with  warm  longings  ;  we  strain  our  eyes 
to  catch  the  first  token  of  it ;  we  rouse 
ourselves  to  vigilance,  knowing  that  now  is 
our  salvation  nearer  than  when  we  be- 
lieved. 

How  it  disappoints,  how  it  damps,  to  be 
told,  there  are  centuries  more  of  this  night- 
watching  still  to  come  !  Could  that  be 
proved,  it  would  sadly  chill  our  hope.  We 
might  at  once  come  down  from  our  watch- 
tower  and  give  up  our  expectations.  To 
"  look  for  and  haste  unto  the  coming  of 
the  day  of  God,"*  would  be  no  longer  a 

"  the  blast  of  the  last  trumpet  is  now  hard  at  hand,"  he 
adds,  "  this  world's  span-length  of  time  is  now  drawn 
to  less  than  half  an  inch." 

*  2  Peter  iii.  12. — The  margin  has  the  true  render- 
ing here,  "  hasting  the  coming  of  the  day  of  God."  By 
looking,  and  praying,  and  watching,  we  hasten  that  day, 
though  it  be  fixed  in  the  purpose  of  God  ;  just  as  we  are 
instruments  (by  prayer,  &c.)  in  the  conversion  of  a 
friend,  though  that  also  depends  en  the  purpose  of  God. 
D  2 


£8  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

duty.  The  last  generation  of  the  church, 
living  at  the  close  of  the  millennium,  might 
get  up  into  the  watch-tower,  but  for  us, 
watching  would  be  a  name,  a  mere  attitude 
of  form  or  show. 

It  has  ever  been  Satan's  object  to  inter- 
pose some  object  between  the  church  and 
her  Lord's  arrival ;  but  never  did  he  light 
upon  a  more  specious,  more  successful  de- 
vice than  that  of  making  the  interposed 
object  a  glorious  and  blessed  one.  To  no 
other  would  the  church  have  listened. 
She  would  have  shrunk  and  turned  away 
from  a  thousand  years'  sorrow  ;  but. she  is 
attracted  and  dazzled  by  the  promise  of  a 
thousand  years'  rest  and  joy.  Yet,  is  the 
interposition  of  any  fixed  interval,  (be  it 
sad  or  joyous,)  lawful  or  scriptural  ?  If  the 
Lord's  advent  be  thrust  into  the  distance, 
it  matters  not  what  may  be  introduced  to 
fill  the  interval.  If  the  Hope  of  the 
church  be  hidden,  it  is  of  small  moment 
whether  it  be  by  a  shroud  of  sackcloth  or 
by  a  veil  of  woven  gold. 


THE    NIGHT-A\JATCH.  29 

God  deals  with  the  church  as  one. 
Though  consisting  of  many  generations,  he 
looks  upon  it  as  one  hody.  And  in  refer- 
ence to  her  hope,  he  has  so  framed  his 
revelation,  that  every  generation  of  the 
church  should  stand  upon  the  same  footing 
as  the  last.  How  has  this  heen  done  ? 
How  has  the  first  age,  and  how  have  all 

subsequent  ages,  been  placed  in  the  same 

• 

position  as  the  last  ?    Simply  by  concealing 

the  interval.  In  this  thing  it  has  been 
truly  "  the  glory  of  God  to  conceal  a  mat- 
ter." (Prov.  XXV.  2.)  For  by  this  method, 
so  simple  and  so  natural,  each  age  of  the 
church  has  been  made  to  feel,  precisely  as 
the  last  will  feel, — to  watch,  just  as  the  last 
will  watch,  when  the  Lord  is  in  very  deed 
at  hand.  And  thus  that  body  which  is 
spread  over  centuries,  has  at  all  times  been 
made  to  occupy  a  position  and  present  a 
character,  the  same  as  if  it  had  been  a 
body  whose  life  and  actings  were  summed 
up  in  one  generation.  So  thart  any  known 
d3 


80  THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

interval  interposed  before  the  advent,  alters 
the  posture,  destroys  the  character,  and 
breaks  the  oneness  of  the  church,  while  it 
defeats  the  object  which  God  had  so 
specially  in  view  in  keeping  the  times  and 
seasons  in  his  own  power. 

Often,  since  the  Lord  left  the  earth,  has 
the  watch  been  changed  and  the  guard  re- 
lieved. God  has  not  tried  too  sorely  the 
faith  of  any  one  age  by  making  the  watch 
too  long.  In  mercy  he  has  cut  down  man's 
age  from  patriarchal  longevity  to  three- 
score years  and  ten,  lest  the  overwearied 
watchers  should  sink  under  the  toil  and 
hardship.  It  is  this  that  makes  unwatch- 
fulness  so  inexcusable.  Adam,  or  Seth,  or 
Methuselah,  or  Noah,  might  have  had  the 
edge  of  their  watchfulness  blunted  by  the 
long  conflict  of  nine  hundred  years  ;  but 
what  excuse  have  we  for  heedlessness? 
Our  time  of  service  is  brief,  and  to  fall 
asleep  or  grow  impatient,  would  indicate 
sad  indolence  and  unfaithfulness.  "  "What ! 


THE   NIGHT-WATCH.  31 

could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ? 
watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  tempta- 
tion." If  the  Lord  come  not  in  our  day, 
by  his  personal  presence  to  end  our  watch- 
ing, we  still  cannot  complain  of  over- 
endurance  or  exhaustion,  seeing  we  shall 
be  so  soon  relieved  and  taken  into  his 
nearer  presence,  there  to  watch  in  rest 
and  joy  and  light,  as  here  we  have  watched 
in  weariness  and  grief  and  darkness.* 

*  "  Blessed  consummation  of  this  Aveary  and  sorrow- 
ful world  1  I  give  it  welcome,  I  hail  its  approach,  1 
wait  its  coming  more  than  they  that  watch  for  the 
morning.  Over  the  wrecks  of  a  world  I  weep  ;  over 
broken  hearts  of  parents,  over  suffering  infancy,  over 
the  unconscious  clay  of  sweet  innocents,  over  the  un- 
timely births  that  have  never  seen  the  light,  or  have 
just  looked  upon  it  and  shut  their  eyes  for  a  season, 
until  the  glorious  light  of  the  resurrection-morn.  O 
my  Lord,  come  away  !  Hasten  with  all  thy  congregated 
ones.  My  soul  desireth  to  see  the  King  in  his  beauty, 
and  the  beautiful  ones  whom  he  shall  bring  along  \*-itb 
him;  when  I  shall  see  these  sweet  babes,  snatched 
from  a  parent's  weeping  eyes,  and  a  parent's  sorrowful 
yet  joyful  heart." — Irving's  Lectures  on  the  Revelation, 
vol.  i-  p.  77. 


CHAPTER  m. 

THE  EARNESTS  OF  THE  MORNIWO. 

The  true  morning  has  not  yet  broken ; 
hardly  does  it  give  forth  any  sign  of  break- 
ing, save  the  deeper  darkness  that  is  the 
sure  foreteller  of  the  dawn. 

It  is  still  night  upon  the  earth  ;  and 
*'  the  children  of  the  night "  are  going  to 
and  fro  in  the  world's  streets,  doing  *'  the 
unfruitful  works  of  darkness;"  "walking 
in  lasciviousness,  lusts,  excess  of  wine, 
revellings,  banquetings,  and  abominable 
idolatries  ; "  yielding  to  the  "  flattering 
lips  "  of  the  seducer,  that  "  lieth  in  wait 
at  every  corner,"  in  "  the  black  and  dark 
ni^ht  "  (Prov.  vii.  9 — 21)  ;  making  "  pro- 
vision for  the  flesh,"  by  "  living  in  rioting 


THE   EARNESTS   OF    THE    MORNINQ.         33 

and  drunkenness,  in  chambering  and  wan- 
tonness, in  strife  and  envying  "  (Rom.  xiii. 
13) ;  compassing  themselves  about  with 
sparks  of  their  own  kindling,  which  only 
sadden  the  gloom  and  make  us  feel  more 
truly  that  it  is  night. 

It  is  still  night  to  the  church ;  a  night 
of  danger,  a  night  of  weariness,  a  night  of 
weeping.  Her  firmament  is  dark  and 
troubled.  The  promise  of  morning  is  sure, 
and  she  is  looking  out  for  it  with  fixed  and 
pleading  eye,  sore  tried  with  the  long 
gloom.  Yet  it  has  not  arisen.  It  is  still 
deferred — deferred  in  mercy  to  an  unready 
^orld,  to  whom  the  ending  of  this  night 
^hall  be  the  closing  of  hope,  and  the  seal- 
ing of  ruin,  and  the  settling  down  of  the 
mfinite  darkness.  For  "  the  Lord  is  not 
slack  concerning  his  promise,  as  some  men 
count  slackness,  but  is  long-suffering  to 
us-ward,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish, 
but  that  all  should  come  to  repentance." 

But  though  it  is  night,  there  are  times 


84  THE    EARNESTS    OF 

both  in  the  saint's  own  history  and  the 
church's  annals,  which  may  be  spoken  of 
as  7?iorm?fgs  even  now.  Such  was  the 
"  morning  "  to  Adam  when  Seth  was  born 
to  him  after  Abel's  death.  (Gen.  iv.  25.) 
Such  was  the  "  morning  "  to  Noah  when 
the  flood  dried  up,  and  the  face  of  the 
earth  was  renewed.  Such  was  the  "  morn- 
ing "  to  Jacob  when  the  tidings  came  to 
him  that  Joseph  was  yet  alive.  Such  was 
the  "  morning  "  to  Naomi  when  Ruth  and 
Boaz  wiped  off  the  tears  of  widowhood, 
and  when  in  her  old  age  she  '^  saw  her 
seed,"  and  "  took  the  child  and  laid  it  in 
her  bosom."  (Ruthiv.  16.)  Such  was 
Hannah's  "  morning "  when,  after  long 
years  of  bitterness,  "  the  Lord  granted  her 
petition,"  and  "  she  w^ent  her  way  and  was 
no  more  sad."  (1  Sam.  i.  18.)  Such  was 
the  "  morning  "  that  dawned  on  Job  wlien 
the  Lord  accepted  him,  and  turned  his 
captivity,  giving  him  twice  as  much  as  he 
had  before,  "  blessing  his  latter  end  more 


THE    MORNING.  95 

than  his  beginning."*  Such  was  Israel's 
"  morning  "  when  the  Lord  turned  back 
the  captivity  of  Zion,  "  making  them  Hke 
men  that  dream/'  filling  "  their  mouth 
with  laughter  and  their  tongue  with  sing- 
ing," in  the  day  of  their  deliverance  from 
exile. 

Thus  there  are  "mornings"  ever  and 
anon  bursting  on  us  now.  They  are  in- 
deed little  more  than  brief  brightenings  of 
the  darkness — lulls  in  the  long  tempest 
that  is  to  rage  unspent  till  the  Lord  come. 
Still  we  may  call  them  ''  mornings,"  just 
as  we  give  the  name  of  mid-day  to  the  dim 
kindlings  of  the  -sky  at  daily  noon,  in  the 
six  months'  arctic  night,  when   the    sun 

*  Job  xlii.  9 — 12.  Yet  even  here  there  seems  an 
allusion  to  the  trtie  morning  yet  to  come,  and  an  intim- 
ation that  all  this  restored  fulness  was  but  an  "  earnest." 
For,  as  has  been  remarked,  while  Job  has  all  his  sheep, 
oxen,  &c.  exactly  doubled  to  him,  his  children  are  7iot 
doubled.  He  had  lost  seven,  and  he  gets  back  but 
sevefi ;  for  he  must  look  to  the  resurrection-morning 
for  the  restoration  of  his  seven  lost  ones,  and  not  till 
iuen  is  he  to  get  the  double. 


36  THE    EARNESTS    OF 

keeps  below  the  horizon.  Or,  better  and 
truer,  we  may  call  them  earnests  of  the 
morning — that  morning  which  is  to  out- 
shine all  mornings,  and  to  swallow  up  alike 
the  darkness  and  the  light  of  a  present  evi? 
world.  Dim  and  transient  as  al*e  these 
earnests,  they  are  unutterably  gladdening. 
They  cheer  the  heavy  darkness  and  are 
pledges  of  sun-rise. 

Our  life  on  earth,  "  the  life  that  we 
now  live  in  the  flesh,"  is  thus  made  up  of 
many  nights  and  many  mornings.  It  is 
not  all  one  night,  nor  is  it  all  one  day. 
Every  thing  pertaining  to  it  seems  to  re- 
volve or  alternate.  It.  is  a  life  of  sinking 
and  rising,  of  going  and  returning,  of 
ebbing  and  flowing,  of  shade  and  bright- 
ness. The  health  of  the  soul  seems  in 
gome  measure  to  need  such  changes, 
just  as  the  soil  owes  much  of  its  fruit- 
fulness  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  sea- 
eons. 

As   there    is   no   even    continuance   of 


■xaX  MORNINO.  37 

constant  good,  so  there  is  no  equal  pFessure 
of  unbroken  evil.  As  the  season  of  calm 
is  brief,  so  is  the  burst  of  the  storm.  The 
days  of  darkness  are  many — more  in  num- 
ber than  the  days  of  light,  yet  they  do  not 
last  always.  "  Many  are  the  afflictions  of 
the  righteous,"  yet  there  are  breaks  in  the 
line  of  evil,  for  it  is  added,  "  the  Lord  de- 
livereth  him  out  of  them  all." 

Our  God  has  so  fashioned  us,  and  so 
regulated  our  circumstances,  that  each 
grief  has  its  crisis,  its  spring-tide,  after 
which  it  seems,  as  if  by  a  law,  to  recede. 
Not  only  can  the  soul  not  bear  beyond  a 
fixed  amount  of  pain  or  pressure  without 
giving  way,  but  it  cannot  be  kept  too  long 
upon  the  stretch.  If  the  tension  is  pro- 
tracted, the  "  spirit  fails,"  the  mind  breakg 
down.  Or  if  this  is  not  the  case,  callous- 
ness comes  on;  we  grow  stupid  and  in- 
sensible. Affliction  loses  its  power  by  be- 
ing too  heavy  or  too  long. 

The  highest  mountain  has  its  iummit  ? 
I 


JI8  THE    EARNESTS   OF 

the  deepest  mine-shaft  has  its  lowest  level. 
Nor,  in  general,  are  these  long  in  being 
reached.  So  even  when  there  'is  sorrow 
upon  sorrow,  there  is  respite  between,  or 
gladness  at  the  close  of  the  dark  series. 
The  outer  and  the  inner  world  have,  to 
some  extent,  the  same  laws  of  alternation 
and  relief.  Tides  and  variations  seem 
needful  in  both.  Thus  it  was  in  the  life  of 
David.  At  one  time  he  stood  with  glad- 
m^ss  in  the  courts  of  his  God ;  at  another 
h'  bemoaned  himself,  saying,  "When  shall 
I  come  and  appear  before  God  ? "  At  one 
time  he  went  with  the  multitude  ;  at 
another  he  wandered  in  solitude  and  exile. 
At  one  time  he  kept  holy  day  with  the 
thousands  of  Israel,  joining  in  the  voice  of 
joy  and  praise ;  at  another  his  tears  were 
his  meat  day  and  night.  At  one  time  his 
soul  was  cast  down  and  disquieted  within 
him  ;  at  another  he  praised  Jehovah  as  the 
health  of  his  countenance.  At  one  time 
he  could  look  with  open   eye   upon  the 


THE   MORNING.  39 

glory  of  Jehovah  in  his  house  ;  at  anothei 
he  could  only  reniemher  him  from  the  land 
of  Jordan  and  of  the  Hermonites  from  the 
hill  Mizar.  At  one  time  deep  called  unto 
deep,  all  God's  waves  went  over  him ;  at 
another  the  Lord  commanded  his  loving- 
kindness  and  opened  his  mouth  in  song. 
Such  were  the  tides  of  David's  history — 
the  vicissitudes  of  day  and  night  in  his 
varying  course.  True  type  of  every  saint's 
history,  not  only  in  the  old  age  of  shadows, 
but  in  our  own  I  True  example  of  the 
changes  and  tossings  marked  out  for  the 
church  in  her  course  on  earth  from  shame 
to  glory  \  What  else  are  we  to  look  for  till 
the  Lord  come  ?  In  the  first  age  of  the 
church,  in  the  time  of  righteous  Ahel,  it 
was  so.  "  The  evening  and  the  morning 
were  the  first  day."  In  the  last  age  of  the 
church,  just  ere  the  second  Adam  is  brought 
in,  it  shall  be  no  less  so.  "  The  evening 
and  the  morning  were  the  sixth  day." 
Then  comes  the  world's  seventh  and 
B  2 


40  THE    EARNESTS   OP 

brightest  day — a  day  of  cloudless  splen* 
dour,  unbroken  and  unending. 

How  wise,  how  gracious  that  it  should 
be  so !  One  firmament  of  gloom,  spanning 
our  whole  life-time,  would  be  intolerable. 
One  long  heavy  chain  of  grief,  with  which 
we  could  never  get  familiar,  and  on  which 
we  could  never  learn  to  look  calmly ;  or 
one  linked  succession  of  griefs,  ever  tearing 
open  old  wounds  and  adding  new  ones, 
would  wither  up  existence  and  blight  life 
before  its  prime.  Man's  nature  could  not 
bear  it ;  man's  heart  would  sink  under  it, 
unless  made  totally  callous  by  some  un- 
natural process,  or  .sustained  by  daily 
miracle ;  in  which  case  grief  would  cease 
to  be  grief,  and  there  could  be  no  such 
thing  as  trial  or  chastisement  at  all. 

Hence,  He  who  "  knoweth  our  frame 
and  remembereth  that  we  are  dust,"  not 
only  "  stayeth  his  rough  wind  in  the  day 
of  his  east  \vind ;"  but  often,  for  a  season, 
bids  both  be  still,  and  breathes  on  ur  only 


THE    MORNIKO.  41 

with  the  freshness  of  the  mild  south.  Foi 
thus  has  he  spoken,  "  I  will  not  contend 
for  ever,  neither  will  I  be  always  wroth ; 
for  the  spirit  should  fail  before  me,  and  the 
souls  which  I  have  made."  (I&a.  Ivii.  16.) 
Such  then  is  God's  purpose  concerning  us, 
and  such  his  reasons  for  it.  The  purpose 
is  a  gracious  and  a  tender  one  ;  no  less  so 
are  the  reasons  for  it.  He  tells  us,  that 
though  he  does,  at  seasons,  contend  with 
us,  yet  he  will  not  prolong  the  contest  be- 
yond a  certain  time  or  limit ;  for  in  such  a 
strife,  who  could  stand  before  the  Mighty 
One  ?  "  In  measure  when  it  shooteth  forth 
thou  wilt  debate  with  it "  (Isa.  xxvii.  8)  ; 
that  is,  he  will  set  bounds  to  the  sorrow 
and  the  smiting  which  cannot  be  over- 
passed ;  he  will  say  to  them,  even  in  their 
fiercest  course,  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go, 
and  no  farther.*'  P'or  were  he  to  allow 
that  tide  to  roll  on  unhindered,  who,  even 
of  his  own  chosen  and  beloved  ones,  could 
E  3 


42  THE    EARNESTS    OS" 

withstand  its  rush,  or  sustain  theinselvei 
amid  its  deepening  waters  ? 

Yet  let  us  not  forget  what  the  sorrow 
has  done  for  us  while  it  lasted ;  and  what 
the  night  has  been,  though  dark  and  sad. 

It  has  been  a  night  of  grief,  yet  a  night 
of  blessing;  a  night  in  Avhich  there  may 
have  been  many  things  which  w^e  could 
wish  forgotten,  yet  many  more  which  we 
should  wish  to  be  remembered  for  ever. 
Often,  during  its  gloom,  we  called  it 
"  wearisome,"  and  said,  "  When  shall  I 
arise  and  the  night  be  gone?"  (Job  vii.  4.) 
Yet  how  much  was  there  to  reconcile  us  to 
it ;  nay,  to  fill  us  with  praise  because  of  it! 
It  was  then  that  the  Lord  drew  near,  and 
the  world  was  displaced,  and  self  was 
smitten,  and  our  will  conquered,  and  faith 
grew  apace,  and  hope  became  brighter  and 
niore  eager,  and  the  things  that  are  unseen 
were  felt  to  be  the  real  and  the  true :  Jeru- 
salem that  is  above  was  seen  by  us  as  oui 
proper  home. 


THE    MORNING.'  43 

It  was  then  that  \ve  had  "  soiigs  in  the 
night''  (Psa.  xlii.  8.)  Our  "  reins  in- 
structed us  in  the  night  seasons."  (Psa. 
xvi.  7.)  It  was  "  in  tlie  niglit  that  we  re- 
membered the  name  "  of  our  God,  (Psa. 
cxix.  55,)  and  "  desired  him  with  our 
souls  "  (Isa.  xxvi.  9)  ;  "  meditating  on 
him  in  the  }fight-w3.tches.''  (Psa.  Ixiii.  6.) 
It  was  "  in  the  f?ight "  that  "  he  led  us 
with  a  Hght  of  fire."  (Psa.  Ixxviii.  14.) 
It  was  in  the  7i?ght  that  "  the  dew  lay 
upon  our  branch,"  (Job  xxix.  19,)  and 
with  the  dew  there  came  down  the  manna; 
for  the  manna  and  the  dew  fell  together, 
(Num.  xi.  9,)  so  that  out  of  the  bosom  of 
the  darkness  there  came  at  once  nourish- 
ment and  freshness.  It  was  then  that  we 
were  taught  sympathy  with  a  groaning 
creation,  taking  part  in  its  "  earnest  ex- 
pectation," and  waiting  for  resurrection 
even  as  it  is  looking  out  for  restitution ;  it 
was  then  that  we  were  taught  to  know  our 
high  office,  as  those  who  have  the  first- 


44  THE    EARNESTS   OF 

fruits  of  the  Spirit,  "  to  lead  (as  one  ha« 
written)  the  choir  of  all-complaining  na- 
ture;" for  it  was  then  that  the  Spirit's 
power  came  forth  upon  us  to  tune  the 
chords  of  our.  manifold  being,  that  they 
might  give  forth  the  true  note  of  mingled 
hope  and  sadness,  peculiar  to  creation  in  its 
present  low  estate;  and  when  we  were 
fretting  under  the  touch,  and  perhaps,  with 
sentimental  weakness,  talking  of  broken 
strings  and  a  blighted  life,  the  hand  of  the 
great  Master-tuner  was  upon  us,  giving  to 
each  rebellious  chord  its  proper  tension, 
that  from  the  re-tuned  instrument  there 
might  come  forth  that  special  harmony 
which  he  desires  to  draw  from  it  in  this 
present  age — that  special  harmony  by  which 
he  is  to  be  glorified  on  earth,  until  Eden 
comes  again  and  the  wilderness  blosboms 
as  the  rose.* 

•  Thus  even  the  philosophic  German  could  express 
the  apostolic  thought  respecting  creation,  and  give 
utterance  to  his  sympathies  :  "  When  I  stand  all  alone 
at  night  in  open  nature,  I  feel  as  though  it  were  a  spirit 


THE   MORNING.  45 

It  was  then  that  we  could  make  the 
utterance  of  Jacob's  patient  faith  our  own, 
"  I  have  waited  for  thy  salvation,  O  Lord ; " 
subscribing  ourselves  to  our  fellow  saints 
as  "  your  companion  in  tribulation  and  in 
the  kingdom  and  patience  of  Christ " 
(that  is,  in  patient  waiting  for  liis  king- 
dom). It  was  then  that  these  words  of 
blessed  cheer  fell  so  sweetly  on  our  ears, 
*'  He  who  testifieth  these  things  saith. 
Surely  I  come  quickly,"  drawing  forth 
from  our  lips  the  glad  response,  ^  Even  so, 
come,  Lord  Jesus."  And  it  was  then  that, 
while  learning  thus  to  plead  "  make  haste," 
we  also  learned  to  say  with  the  Bride, 
"  A  bundle  of  myrrh  is  my  well-beloved 

and  begged  redemption  of  me.  Often  have  I  had  the 
sensation  as  if  nature,  in  wailing  sadness,  entreated 
something  of  me,  so  that,  not  to  understand  what  she 
longed  for,  cut  through  my  very  heart." — Goethe, 
quoted  by  Olshausen  on  the  Romans.  And  another  has 
thus  written  :  "  Even  in  the  things  of  the  world  around 
us  there  is  an  element  of  life,  a  yearning  of  what  is 
bound,  which,  like  that  Memnon  statue,  unconsciously 
taakes  symphony  when  the  ray  touches  it  from  abore." 
HJCHijBERT,  cited  by  the  same. 


46  THE   EARNESTS   OP 

unto   me,  he   shall  lie   all  night  in  my 

bosom."  (Sol.  Song  i.  13.) 

Blessed  and  profitable,  however,  as  we 
have  found  the  night  with  its  still  seclusion 
and  solemn  teachings,  it  is  not  the  morn- 
ing nor  the  day.  And  its  very  d^irkness 
makes  us  long  the  more  for  the  anticipated 
sun-rise — for  "  the  flight  of  shadows  and 
the  eternal  day-break." 

Nor  are  we  hindered  from  desiring  the 
day.  Impatience  is  forbidden,  but  not  de- 
sire. Lefe  us  possess  our  souls  in  patience, 
for  he  is  neither  the  brave  nor  the  believ- 
ing man  who  says, "  Let  me  die,  for  the  cup 
is  bitterer  than  I  can  drink;"  but  he  who 
under  the  sorest  grief  can  say,  "  Let  me 
live  on  and  be  useful,  whatever  may  be  the 
bitterness  of  the  cup."  But  still  we  may 
long  for  the  ending  of  the  night.  As  in 
sickness  we  may  long  for  health,  and  put 
forth  all  fit  means  for  its  attainment ;  so  in 
darkness  we  may  cry  earnestly  for  the 
dawning,  especially  because  we  know  that 


THE   MORNING.  47 

God  has  a  day  in  store  for  us  after  the 
night  is  done — a  day  which  is  to  be  far 
more  than  a  compensation  for  all  previous 
sorrow.  For  every  night  God  has  pro- 
vided a  morning,  so  that  as  we  have  many 
nights,  we  have  also  many  mornings  even 
here.  They  are  not  indeed  "  mornings 
without  clouds,"  but  still  they  are  morn- 
ings whose  cheering  light  lifts  up  the 
heavy  spirit  and  brightens  the  faded  eye. 

But  for  the  world,  the  children  of  the 
night,  the  heedless,  pleasure-loving  world, 
what  morning  is  there,  or  what  earnest  of 
the  morning?  None.  Or  at  least  it  de- 
serves not  the  name  of  morning.  Their 
"sorrows  are  multiplied,"  because  they  have 
hastened  after  other  gods.  Their  joy  is  but 
a  moment.  Their  consolation  is  no  better 
than  a  dream.  They  serve  a  god  that  can- 
not save,  and  that  cannot  comfort.  Their 
portion  here  at  the  best  is  emptiness ;  and 
the  end  is  the  eternal  blackness  and  the 
infinite   despair.      The   tidings   of  God's 


48         THE    EARNESTS   OF    THE   MORNTNG. 

free  love  they  heed  not ;  but  the  tidings  of 
his  wrath  they  shall  ere  long  be  made  to 
heed ;  if  now  they  turn  not  to  him  who  is 
entreating  of  them  this  one  favour,  that 
they  would  bring  their  sins  to  him  for 
pardon,  and  let  him  bear  all  their  griefs 
and  carry  all  their  sorrows. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    USE   OF    THESE    EARNESTS* 

-'*  Now  for  a  swifter  race  ! "  was  the  re- 
solve of  one  over  whose  path  sorrow  was 
beginning  to  darken  heavily.  "  Now  for 
a  busier  and  more  useful  life ! "  was  the 
utterance  of  another,  as  he  rose  from  his 
knees,  after  pouring  out  the  bitterness  of 
his  grief  into  the  ear  of  God. 

In  these  cases  tribulation  was  taking  its 
true  course  and  working  its  right  end.  It 
had  gone  dow^n  to  the  most  sacred  depths 
of  the  renewed  heart,  and  was  calling  up 
buried  feelings  of  devotedness  that  had  re- 
mained dormant,  but  not  extinct,  under  a 
mass  of  worldliness.  It  smote  our  selfish- 
ness,  our  narrow-mindedness,  our  §lotl^ 
r 


60  THE    USE    OP 

our  flesh-pleasing,  and  reminded  us  that 
we  had  no  time  to  loiter  or  to  sleep.  Tear- 
ing off  the  veil  which  prosperous  days  had 
flung  over  our  eyes,  it  pointed  to  the  vanity 
of  things  "seen  and  temporal,"  till  the 
vastness  of  the  unseen  and  the  eternal  so 
grew  upon  us,  that  we  rose  up  and  went 
forth,  resolving  on  a  swifter  race  and  a 
busier  life  on  earth. 

Still  there  was  a  hinderance.  The  very 
trial  that  stirred  us  up  also  weighed  us 
down,  unknitting  our  strength,  and  caus- 
ing us  well  nigh  to  faint.  The  pressure 
staid  our  swiftness,  and  the  deep  wound, 
still  bleeding,  enfeebled  us.  We  sought  to 
run,  but  were  often  held  back ;  and  when 
Vie  would  have  gone  forth  to  do  the  work 
of  God,  we  were  constrained  to  turn  aside 
and  go  alone,  that,  in  weeping  and  plead- 
ing, we  might  relieve  our  heavy  hearts.  We 
may  at  times  seem  to  escape  from  the  sor- 
row, and,  in  the  fire  of  zeal,  almost  forget 
its  bitterness  ;   yet  it  returns  to  us  in  full 


THESE    EARNESTS.  61 

strength,  and  we  feel  as  if  a  chain  were  on 
our  limhs.  There  is  not  indeed  the  bond- 
age arising  from  any  uncertainty  as  to  the 
relationship  in  which  we  stand  towards 
God.  These  fetters  fell  from  us  when  we 
received  God's  record  of  forgiving  love,  and  j 
knew  what  it  is  to  be  freely  pardoned.  ^ 
These  fetters  no  amount  of  trial  can  re- 
impose  on  us,  if  "  we  hold  the  beginning  j 
of  our  confidence  stedfast  unto  the  end."  ^ 
Nay,  it  is  often  in  a  day  of  grief  that  we 
realize  most  blessedly  how  completely 
grace  has  set  us  free.  But  though  there  is 
no  re-placement  of  our  chains,  and  no  bit- 
terness of  bondage  again  tasted,  still  chas- 
tisement is  '*  not  joyous  but  grievous ; "  and 
*'  being  grievous  "  it  sometimes  disheartens 
and  disables  us,  so  that  we  cannot  do  the 
same  amount  of  service,  or  undergo  the 
same  degree  of  toil  for  God,  as  otherwise 
we  might  have  done.  At  the  first  light- 
ing down  of  the  stroke  this  is  always  felt, 
for  we  are  men  in  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh 
p  2 


52  THE  USE  oy 

gives  way.  "  The  spirit  truly  is  willing, 
but  the  flesh  is  weak."  And  for  a  con- 
siderable time  this  continues  to  be  experi- 
efnced  ;  shorter  or  longer,  according  to  our 
natural  characters,  or  according  to  the 
specialties  of  the  trial. 

Hence  it  is  that  affliction  is  often 
more  a  season  of  preparation  for  service 
than  a  time  of  actual  service,  save  only  as 
patience  is  service,  for  "  they  also  serve 
who  only  stand  and  wait."  Let  us  not  fret, 
then,  nor  be  cast  down,  because  we  feel  dis- 
abled for  zealous  service  for, a  time.  Le*; 
it  suffice  us  to  know  that  we  are  pre/mrino 
for  this.  And  when  the  load  is  lifted  off 
or  becomes  lighter,  then  we  run  with 
speedier  foot,  the7t  we  labour  with  fuller 
strength  and  freer  heart.  We  cannot  ex- 
pect to  be  wholly  free  from  sorrow  here,  for 
some  amount  of  trial  is  always  needful  to 
keep  us  from  forgetting  that  this  is  not  our 
rest, — that  this  is  the  night  and  not  the 
day  ;   but  still  these  intervals  of  calm  and 


THESE   EARNESTS.  53 

Bunshine  are  precious  times,  —  times  of 
blessing  ;  times  of  service  ;  times  for  the 
swift  race  and  the  busy  life. 

These  mornings  here,  coming  after  the 
nights  that  thicken  over  us,  are  most 
profitable.  They  not  only  relieve  the 
"  o'er-fraught  heart,"  but  are  seasons  in 
■which  we  find  leisure  to  learn  lessons  of 
"wisdom  and  holiness,  which  in  the  time  of 
the  sorrow  we  had  overlooked  or  put  from 
us.  The  returning  elasticity  of  spirit  en- 
ables us  to  rise  from  our  depression,  now 
that  the  weight  has  in  some  measure  been 
lifted  off.  Too  continuous  a  pressure  of 
grief  is  apt  to  make  us  moody,  selfish, 
desponding,  slothful.  It  narrows  the  circle 
alike  of  vision  and  of  sympathy,  and  dries 
up  the  springs  of  our  nature.  But  when 
peace  returns  after  a  season  of  trouble,  we 
seem  doubly  fitted  as  well  as  nerved  for 
duty.  The  trial  has  sobered  and  mellowed 
us.  It  has  taught  us  to  endure  hardness 
as  good  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ.     It  has 

F  3 


54  THE    13  SK    OP 

rubbed  off  excrescences.  It  has  made  us 
less  selfish,  less  contracted  in  soul.  It  has 
taught  us  to  look  round  with  sympathy 
upon  a  suffering  world  and  a  weeping 
church.  It  was  as  if  we  had  been  taken 
aside  for  a  season  into  some  quiet  nook  or 
dark  cave,  from  which,  while  alone  and 
imdistracted,  we  could  look  out  unobserved 
upon  the  multitudes  that  passed  and  re- 
passed. And  having  been  thus  brought  to 
form  truer,  riper  judgments,  we  are  led 
forth  again  to  act — to  act  more  unselfishly, 
more  zealously,  yet  more  stedfastly  and 
soberly. 

Our  life,  after  a  night  of  trial  has  passed 
over  us,  should  be  a  life  of  truer  aims,  of 
steadier  walk,  of  higher  level,  of  keener, 
purer  vision.  If  not,  we  have  suffered  in 
vain. 

During  the  night,  much  was  of  necessity 
hidden  from  us.  But  the  morning  dis- 
closes what  the  night  had  hidden.  It 
shows  us  how  desperate  the  struggle  was 


THESE    EARNESTS.  66 

between  us  and  our  God,  of  which  at  the 
time  we  were  hardly  aware.  It  shows  the 
amount  of  patience,  love,  and  faithfulness, 
that  have  been  expended  on  us  by  God.  It 
shows  the  extent  of  the  evil  in  u-s  which 
had  drawn  down  the  chastening.  It  puts 
us  in  a  position  for  bringing  into  practice 
the  knowledge  of  the  world's  vanity  and 
wretchedness  which  sorrow  had  taught  us. 
Thus  the  morning  carries  out  the  lessons 
of  the  night,  and  gives  us  opportunity  for 
exemplifying  them.  And  thus  the  alterna- 
tion of  trial  and  rest  which  makes  up  our 
lot  on  earth,  is  in  truth  but  a  succession  of 
lessons,  and  of  opportunities  for  practising 
them.  "  Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech, 
and  night  unto  night  showeth  knowledge." 
(Psa.  xix.  2.) 

Thus  trial  prepares  for  service.  It  nerves 
us,  it  braces  us  for  toil.  It  shows  us  what 
alone  is  worth  living  for,  so  that  when  the 
force  of  it  is  in  some  measure  abated,  we 
find  ourselves  ready  to  start  anew  for  the 


66  THE  USE  OF 

race,  ready  to  wield  the  weapons  of  our 
warfare  with  a  firmer  and  more  skilful 
nand. 

These  intervals  of  brightness,  then,  are 
the  true  seasons  for  labour.  These  earnests 
of  the  morning  should  be  prized  as  oppor- 
tunities specially  afforded  us  by  God  for 
strenuous  labour.  If  thus  laid  out,  how 
blessed  will  they  be  found !  They  are  brief, 
for  tribulation  is  our  lot  on  earth,  not 
ease ;  but  this  should  only  arouse  to  new 
vigour ;  for  if  they  be  thus  brief,  we  have 
no  moments  to  idle  away. 

But  it  is  here  that  so  many  stumble.  In 
trial  they  call  upon  the  Lord  and  vow  their 
life  to  him.  Through  evil  report  and  good 
they  will  follow  him  ;  on  the  rough  way 
or  the  smooth  they  will  walk  with  him ; 
by  labour,  by  sacrifice,  by  watchfulness,  by 
costly  gifts,  they  will  prove  their  love,  and 
zeal,  and  constancy  !  Good  words  and  sin- 
cerely spoken !  But  so  were  the  words  of 
the  disciple,  *'  If  I  should  die  with  thee,  I 


THESE    EARNESTS.  /57 

will  not  deny  thee  in  any  wise."  He 
Bpoke  what  he  truly  felt,  but  when  the 
hour  came,  the  resolution  was  not  to  be 
found.  So  with  us.  Trial  calls  forth 
many  a  high  thought  and  prompts  to  noble 
purposes.  Yet  how  seldom  do  these 
thoughts  ripen  ;  how  often  do  these  pur- 
poses die  !  Peace  returns,  sunshine  bright- 
ens over  us,  our  broken  strength  knits 
again,  and  we  sink  back  into  sloth  !  The 
calm  hour  for  which  we  longed,  that  we 
might  do  something  for  God,  has  come, 
but  it  finds  us  nearly  as  heedless  and  selfish 
as  before  we  entered  into  the  storm. 

This  must  not  be.  Why  were  we  smit- 
ten, but  just  that  we  might  be  stirred  up  ? 
And  why  were  we  delivered,  but  just  that 
we  might  work  more  strenuously,  more 
efficaciously  ?  How  sad,  then,  that  both 
the  trial  and  the  enlargement  should  fail 
of  their  purposed  end  ! 

These  times  of  enlargement  are  times  of 
light   and   gladness.      In  these  mornings 


58  THE   USE   OF    THESE   EARNESTS. 

joy  has  come  to  us.  It  is  not  the  mere 
reaction  from  sorrow;  it  is  not  mere 
familiarity  with  suffering;  it  is  not  oblivion 
of  the  past ;  it  is  not  the  calm  of  over-spent 
feeling.  It  is  joy  from  the  Lord.  And 
**  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  our  strength."  He 
who  gave  us  the  night  has  given  us  also 
the  morning.  He  who  called  up  the  storm 
has  brought  back  the^  calm.  So  that  it  is 
his  joy  in  which  we  rejoice  ;  and  this  joy 
is  our  strength.  Let  not  this  strength  lie 
idle.  The  calm  will  not  last ;  the  clouds 
will  soon  return  ;  and  it  concerns  us  to  lay 
out  well  the  brief  hour  of  light.  "  I  must 
work  the  works  of  him  that  sent  me  while 
it  is  day ;  the  night  cometh  when  no  msn 
can  work." 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE   MOKNING-STAB. 


It  was  "  very  early  in  the  morning,** 
while  "  it  was  yet  dark,"  that  Jesus  rose 
from  the  dead.  Not  the  sun,  but  only  the 
morning-star,  shone  upon  his  opening 
tomb.  The  shadows  had  not  fled,  the 
citizens  of  Jerusalem  had  not  awoke.  It 
was  still  night — the  hour  of  sleep  and  of 
darkness,  when  he  arose.  Nor  did  his 
rising  break  the  slumbers  of  the  city. 

So  it  shall  be  "  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing,'* when  "it  is  yet  dark,"  and  when 
nought  but  the  morning- star  is  shining, 
that  Christ's  body,  the  church,  shall  arise. 
Like  him,  his  saints  shall  awake  when 
the    children  of  the  night    and  darkness 


60  THE   MORNING-STAR. 

are  still  sleeping  their  sleep  of  death.  In 
their  arising  they  disturb  no  one.  The 
world  hears  not  the  voice  that  summons 
them,  or  if  it  hears,  shall  only  say,  "  It 
thunders,"  as  did  the  unbelieving  Jews 
when  the  Father's  voice  responded  to  the 
prayer  of  Jesus.  (John  xii.  29.)  As  Jesus 
laid  them  quietly  to  rest,  each  in  his  own 
still  tomb,  like  children  in  the  arms  of 
their  mother ;  so,  as  quietly,  as  gently, 
shall  he  awake  them  when  the  hour  ar- 
rives. 

He  is  the  Morning-star.  "  I  am  the 
root  and  offspring  of  David,  the  bright  and 
morning-star."  (Rev.  xxii.  16.)  And  this 
name  is  given  to  him  not  only  because  of 
the  glory  of  his  person  and  the  brightness 
of  his  appearing,  but  because  of  the  time 
when  he  is  to  appear. 

The  first  act,  at  his  appearing,  when  he 
comes  in  glory, — the  first  indication  of  his 
arrival,  while  yet  aloft  *'in  the  air,"  is 
likened  to  the  shining  of  the  morning-star. 


THE   MORNING-STAR.  61 

Afterwards  he  shall  come  forth  as  "  the 
Sun  of  righteousness,"  filling  the  whole 
earth  with  his  brightness,  and  shadowing 
the  nations  with  his  healing  wings  (Mai. 
iv.  2)  ;  but  at  first  he  shows  himself  as  the 
Morning- star, — big  with  the  hope  of  day, 
yet  not  the  day ;  brighter  than  other  stars 
and  eclipsing  all  of  them,  yet  not  the  Day- 
star;  forerunner  of  the  sun,  yet  not  the 
sun  ;  foreteller  of  the  dawn,  yet  not  the 
dawn.* 

Hence  his  promise  to  the  conqueror  is, 
"  I  will  give  him  the  morning-star  "  (Rev. 
ii.  28) ;  that  is,  I  will  give  myself  to  him 
AS  the  morning-star  ;  I  will  show  myself  to 
him  as  such ;  I  will  confer  on  him  this 
])re-eminence,  this  special  blessedness. 

We  read  in  Scripture  of  "  the  eye-lids  of 

*  "  Fairest  of  stars,  last  in  the  train  of  night, 
If  better  thou  belong  not  to  the  dawn : 
Sure  pledge  of  day,  that  crown'st  the  smiling  morn 
With  thy  bright  circlet,  praise  him  in  thy  sphere. 
While  day  arises,  that  sweet  hour  of  prime." 

Paradise  Lost,     Book  V. 


62  THE   MORNING- STAR. 

the  morning ; "  and  the  morning-star  \h 
the  first  beam  shooting  from  under  these 
lids  as  they  begin  to  re-open,  that  the  eye 
of  day  may  again  irradiate  the  earth.  It 
is  only  they  who  awake  early  that  see  the 
first  opening  of  these  eye-lids,  or  gaze  upon 
the  morning-star,  or  breathe  the  morning 
freshness,  or  taste  the  morning  dew.  So 
is  it  with  those  of  whom  it  is  said,  **  Bless- 
ed and  holy  is  he  that  hath  part  in  the 
first  resurrection."  To  them  come  the 
quickening  words,  "  Awake  and  sing,  ye 
that  dwell  in  dust.''  (Isa.  xxvi.  19.)  Into 
their  tomb  the  earliest  ray  of  glory  finds  its 
w^ay.  They  drink  in  the  first  gleams  of 
morning,  while  as  yet  the  eastern  clouds 
give  but  the  faintest  signs  of  its  uprising. 
Its  genial  fragrance,  its  soothing  stillness, 
its  bracing  freshness,  its  sweet  loneliness, 
its  quiet  purity,  all  so  solemn  and  yet  sc 
full  of  hope,  these  are  theirs.  Oh  the 
contrast  between  these  things  and  the  dark 
night  through  which  they  have  passed !  Oh 


THE   MOKNING-STAR.  63 

the  contrast  between  these  things  and  the 
grave  from  which  they  have  sprung  !  And 
as  they  shake  off  the  encumbering  tuif, 
flinging  mortality  aside,  and  rising,  in 
glorified  bodies,  to  meet  their  Lord  in  the 
air,  they  are  lighted  and  guided  upward, 
along  the  untrodden  pathway,  by  the  beams 
of  that  Star  of  morning,  which,  like  the 
star  of  Bethlehem,  conducts  them  to  the 
presence  of  the  King. 

There  seem  to  be  more  periods  than  one 
(if  times  so  very  brief  may  be  called  by 
that  name)  opening  out  upon  us  when  the 
Lord  comes.'  Just  as  there  are  more  scenes 
than  one,  and  more  acts  than  one,  in  "  the 
day  of  the  Lord,"  so  there  are  more  periods 
than  one.  And  it  is  interesting  to  notice 
these  in  connexion  with  the  Morning- 
star. 

All  the  time  up  to  the  moment  of  his 
appearing  is  reckoned  night.  Then  the 
scenes  change,  and,  step  by  step,  the  day 
with  its  full  sunshine  is  brought  in.  First, 

G  2 


64  THE    MORNING-STAR. 

there  is  the  period  of  the  Morning-star, 
during  which  the  dead  saints  awake  and 
the  living  saints  are  changed ;  then  that 
which  is  sown  in  corruption  is  raised  in 
incorruption,  that  which  is  sown  in  dis 
honour  is  raised  in  glory,  that  which  is 
sown  in  weakness  is  raised  in  power,  that 
which  is  sown  a  natural  body  is  raised  a 
spiritual  body ;  and  then  they  that  have 
long  dwelt  in  dust  awake  and  sing.  In 
every  land  they  have  found  a  grave,  aiid 
every  land  now  gives  up  the  sleeping  clay. 
They  come  forth  "  in  the  beauties  of 
holiness  from  the  womb  of  the  morning,'* 
like  the  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
dew-drops  of  the  night,  made  visible  by 
the  morning-star,  and  sparkling  to  its  far- 
coming  glory.  (Psa.  ex.  3;  Isa.  xxvi.  19.) 
It  is  long  since  "  light  was  sown  for  the 
righteous,"  (Psa.  xcvii.  11,)  and  this  is  the 
first-fruits  of  the  harvest. 

Next  there  is  tjie  period  of  the  twilight. 
This  is  the  time  when  "  the  light  shall  not 


THE    MORNING-STAR.  65 

be  clear  nor  dark,"  like  "  the  morning 
spread  upon  the  mountains."  (Joel  ii.  2.) 
Then  has  the  last  battle-strife  begun  ;  then 
the  Lord  with  his  rod  of  iron  is  breaking 
his  enemies  in  pieces  like  a  potter's  vessel ; 
then  he  cometh  forth  from  his  place  to 
punish  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  for 
their  iniquity  ;  then,  with  all  his  saints,  he 
executes  the  infinite  vengeance,  delivers 
Israel,  destroys  Antichrist,  lays  waste  the 
world  with  sore  calamity  and  purging  fire. 
"  Before  the  morning  he  is  not,"  says  the 
prophet,  foretelling  the  ruin  of  the  great 
enemy  of  Israel  and  the  church.  (Isa. 
xvii.  14.)  * 

Next  there  is  the  morning.  The  enemy 
has  disappeared ;   each  wreck  that  marked 

*  It  is  either  to  this  or  the  close  of  the  preceding 
period  that  such  passages  are  to  be  referred :  "  All  the 
bright  lights  of  heaven  will  I  make  dark  over  thee." 
Ezek.  xxxii.  8.  "  The  day  of  the  Lord  is  darkness  and 
not  light."  Amos  v.  18,  20.  "While  ye  look  for  light 
he  turn  it  into  the  shadow  of  death."  Jer.  xiii.  15. 
"The  light  is  darkened  in  the  heavens  thereof."  laa* 
V.30. 

g3 


$6  THE    MORNING-STAR. 

either  his  dominion  or  his  destruction  ii 
jone.  The  face  of  the  earth  is  renewed, 
the  storm  is  hxid  to  rest,  and  the  glory  of 
an  unclouded  sun  and  an  unsullied  firma- 
ment makes  creation  sing  for  joy.  The 
voice  of  the  Beloved  is  heard,  "  Rise  up,  my 
love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away.  For, 
lo,  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and 
gone ;  the  flowers  appear  on  the  earth  ; 
the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come, 
and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our 
land ;  the  fig  tree  putteth  forth  her  green 
figs,  and  the  vines  with  the  tender  grape 
give  a  good  smell.  Arise,  my  love,  my 
fair  one,  and  come  away."  (Sol.  Song  ii. 
10—13.) 

Lastly,  there  is  the  day  in  its  full 
brightness.  For  the  path  of  this  Just  One 
is  like  the  shining  light  that  shineth  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day.  Of  that 
day,  earth  has  never  seen  the  like.  For 
that  day  it  waits  in  patient  hope,  strug- 
gling hard,  meanwhile,  with  darkness,  and 


« 

THE   MORNING- STAR.  67 

labouring  to  throw  off  its  long  sad  weight 
of  ill. 

It  is  as  if  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  when 
first  coming  within  sight  of  the  earth, 
showed  itself  in  the  far  distance,  as  the 
star  of  morning ;  token  most  welcome  and 
hopeful,  recognised  at  once  by  those  who 
knew  the  true  light  of  the  world,  and  who 
had  often  in  other  days  looked  out  wist- 
fully for  the  Star  of  Jacob.  It  is,  next^  as 
if  the  same  glory,  when  it  neared  the  earth, 
showed  itself  in  terrible  majesty  as  the 
sign  of  the  Son  of  man,  in  seeing  which  all 
the  tribes  of  the  earth  mourn  (Matt.  xxiv. 
30  ;  Rev.  i.  7)  ;  fDr  just  as  in  the  morning- 
watch  the  Lord  looked  through  the  pillar 
of  fire  and  cloud  and  troubled  the  host  of 
the  Egyptians,  (Exod.  xiv.  24,)  so,  when  he 
Cometh  with  clouds,  "  all  kindreds  of  the 
earth  shall  wail  because  of  him."  It  is, 
next,  as  if  the  same  glory  of  the  Son  of  man, 
coming  still  nearer,  took  up  its  destined 
position,  and  spread  its  skirts  over  earth  as 


<58  THE    MORNING-STAR. 

did  the  pillar-cloud  over  the  tents  of  Israel. 
It  is,  lastly,  as  if  this  glory,  this  more  than 
Shechinah-splendour,  showed  itself  as  the 
Sun  of  righteousness,  bearing  healing  in 
his  wings,  wherewith  he  heals  the  7iations, 
so  that  the  inhabitant  shall  no  more  say,  I 
am  sick ;  wherewith  he  heals  the  earth,  so 
that  the  curse  takes  flight ;  wherewith  he 
heals  the  air,  so  that  it  poisons  no  more. 
Then  day  shall  utter  speech  to  day  in  a 
way  unheard  of  before;  then  shall  their 
line  go  throughout  all  the  earth,  and  their 
words  to  the  end  of  the  world,  when  out  of 
that  "  tabernacle  which  he  hath  set  for  the 
Sun,"  that  Sun  shall  come  forth  as  a  bride- 
groom out  of  his  chamber,  rejoicing  as  a 
strong  man  to  run  a  race.  Then  shall 
come  to  pass  the  saying  that  is  written, 
"  Behold,  the  glory  of  the  God  of  Israel 
came  from  the  way  of  the  east,  and  his 
voice  was  like  the  noise  of  many  waters, 

and  THE  EARTH  SHINED  WITH   HIS  GLORY.'* 

(Ezek.  xliii.  2.) 


THE    MORNING-STAR.  69 

"With  all  of  these  in  succession  the  saints 
have  to  do,  from  the  lime  that  they  are 
roused  out  of  their  tombs  by  the  first 
beams  of  the  Morning-star,  to  have  part  in 
the  first  resurrection.  But  it  is  only  the 
first  of  these  that  we  are  now  considering. 

The  promise  "  to  him  that  overcometh  " 
is,  "I  will  give  him  the  morning-star." 
(Rev.  ii.  28.)  Of  all  the  blessings  symbol- 
ized or  indicated  by  that  star,  he  is  made 
partaker.  The  first  streak  of  dawn  is  his. 
He  is  summoned  from  the  dust  to  meet 
morning  ere  yet  one  ray  of  it  has  touched 
the  earth.  -The  first  glimpse  of  the  long- 
waited-for  glory  his  eye  shall  see,  when 
other  eyes  abide  in  darkness.  In  this  first 
token  of  a  coming  Lord,  his  soul  shall  re- 
joice. At  this,  the  first  sound  of  the  return- 
ing Bridegroom's  voice,  he  shall  go  forth 
with  ready  love.  The  first  objecLthat 
shall  meet  his  eye  on  awaking  from  the 
tomb,  shall  be  the  Star  of  Jacob. 

This   earnest   of    creation's   better   day 


70  THE   MORNING-STAB. 

is  the  portion  of  the  saints.  The  deliver- 
ance of  creation  is  at  hand.  The  time  of 
**  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God  "  is 
come.  Now,  arrayed  in  light,  themselves 
the  sons  of  light,  they  shall  shine  as  the 
brightness  of  the  firmament  and  as  the 
stars  for  ever  and  ever.  Now,  transformed 
into  the  image  of  the  Morning-star — them- 
selves the  stars  of  morning,  they  prepare 
to  sing  together  over  the  new  creation, 
when  its  foundations  shall  he  fastened  and 
its  corner-stone  laid  by  Him  who  is  to 
make  all  things  new.*  Death  is  now 
swallowed  up  of  victory ;  the  grave  is 
rifled ;  the  spoiler  is  spoiled  ;  ashes  are 
exchanged  for  beauty  ;  the  light  that  was 
quenched  is  rekindled  ;  the  sonow  passes 
into  joy  ;  and  the  darkness  of  a  brief  night 
ends  in  the  upiising  of  the  endless  day. 

As  for  those  that  "  are  alive  and  remain 
unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord,"  though  they 

•  See  Job  xxxviii.  6/  7,  where  the  reference  is  ol 
course  to  the  old  creation. 


THE    MORNING-STAR.  71 

shall  not  go  before  those  that  are  asleep,  yet 
they  shall  not  be  behind  them  in  the  bless- 
edness. They  shall  have  the  same  privileges 
of  the  early  morning, — the  same  honour, 
the  same  glory.  Their  eye  shall  look  upon 
that  Star ;  and  it  shall  be  to  them  all  that 
it  is  to  those  who  were  "  dwelling  in  dust.*' 
Living  in  the  last  days  of  a  God-denying 
world, — days  dark  and  hateful  as  those  of 
Noah  or  of  Lot, — their  righteous  souls 
vexed  from  day  to  day  with  wickedness 
"  that  cannot  rest,"  "  casting  up  its  mire 
and  dirt  "  on  every  side, — danger  pressing, 
conflict  thickening,  persecution  assailing, 
sorrows  multiplying, — how  welcome  shall 
that  sign  be  to  them,  springing  up  like 
hope  when  all  is  hopeless,  and  fore-token- 
ing life,  refreshment,  rest,  gladness,  to  the 
troubled  and  despairing  earth  ! 

Like  the  anxious  watchman  on  some 
fortress,  they  have  been  wearying  for  the 
morning ;  and  it  has  come  at  last !    Like 


/2  THE    MORNING-STAR. 

the  belated  traveller,  pressing  on  over  hill 
and  moor  and  rock  and  waste  and  thicket, 
they  have  been  seeking  at  every  turn  to 
catch  the  light  of  their  cottage  window ; 
and  it  is  seen  at  last !  Like  the  tempest- 
tost  apostle,  wlien  neither  sun  nor  stars  for 
many  days  appeared,  "  they  wish  for  day." 
and  live  glad  beyond  measure  at  the  tokens 
of  its  approach.  The  glimmer  of  the  light- 
house has  hitherto  been  their  comfort  and 
their  guide.  By  it  they  have  shaped  their 
way  and  cheered  their  hearts.  But,  of  a 
sudden,  the  beacon  seems  to  sink  away, 
and  ere  they  are  aware,  its  light  is  lost 
amid  the  far-outrivalling  brightness  of  the 
Morning- star. 

But  upon  the  unready  and  unwatching 
world  that  Star  rises  mth  no  ray  of  bless- 
ing. It  rises  only  to  shed  ''  disastrous 
blight,"  and  give  token  of  the  desolations 
that  are  at  hand.  For  as  when  Noah  en- 
tiered  the  ark  the  flood  burst  forth,  or  as 


THE   MORNING-STAR.  73 

when  Lot  entered  Zoar  the  fire  came 
down,  so  when  the  saints  are  caught  up 
then  the  wrath  is  poured  out  and  the  door 
is  shnt. 

Till  then  the  gate  of  peace  stands  wide 
open,  and  into  the  chambers  of  safety  all 
are  beckoned.  The  most  unready  of  all  the 
children  of  men  may  go  freely  in  ;  for  the 
grace  Uiat  invites  makes  no  exceptions,  but 
welcomes  the  un worthiest.  It  would  fain 
allure  the  seekers  of  vain  joy,  from  joys 
that  are  so  vain.  "  It  would  fain  win  the 
heart  of  the  sorrowful,  who  mourn  and  yet 
have  no  comforter,  because  they  have  no 
God.  It  would  fain  draw  in  the  secure 
into  a  place  of  true  safety,  ere  the  storm 
arise  that  is  to  break  in  pieces  the  strong 
foundations  of  the  earth. 

Children  of  the  earth ! — you  especially 
■whose  sorrows  are  multiplied,  and  whose 
hearts  are  sick  with  disappointment, — give 
heed  to  the   gracious  warning.     Enter  the 


74  THE    MORNING-STAR. 

hiding-place  and  be  safe  for  ever.  Thrice 
blessed,  are  those  griefs  and  disappoint- 
ments that  lead  you  out  of  lying  refuges 
into  the  sure  covert  from  the  storm,  that 
call  you  from  the  joy  of  the  world  into  the 
joy  of  God. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE   MORiriNG. 


**  The  watchman  said,  The  morning 
Cometh"  (Isa.  xxi.  12);  and  though,  while 
making  this  answer,  he  forewarns  us  of 
night,  he  also  assures  us  of  morning.  There 
is  a  morning,  says  he,  therefore  do  not  give 
way  to  faintness  of  spirit ;  but  there  is  a 
night  between,  therefore  take  warning : 
that  you  may  not  be  surprised  nor  dismay- 
ed, as  if  the  promise  were  broken,  or  some 
strange  thing  allowed  to  befall  you. 

There  may  be  delay,  he  intimates,  be- 
fore the  morning, — a  dark  delay,  for  which 
we  should  be  prepared.  During  this  he 
calls  to  watchfulness  :  for  the  length  of  the 
night  is  hidden,  the  time  of  day-break  is 
II  2 


76  THE   MORNING. 

left  uncertain.  We  must  be  on  the  out- 
look, with  our  eyes  fixed  on  the  eastern 
hills.  We  have  nothing  wherewith  to 
measure  the  hours,  save  the  sorrows  of  the 
church  and  the  failing  of  hearts. 

During  this  delay  the  watchman  en- 
courages us  to  "  inquire,"  to  "  return,"  to 
'*  come."  He  expects  us  to  ask  '^  how 
long,"  and  say,  "  When  will  the  night  be 
done?"  He  takes  for  granted  that  such 
will  be  the  proceeding  of  men  who  really 
long  for  morning.  To  the  hills  of  Seir 
they  will  again  and  again  return,  to  learn 
from  the  watchman  what  is  the  promise  of 
day.  For  no  familiarity  with  the  night  can 
ever  reconcile  them  to  its  darkness,  or 
make  morning  less  desirable  and  welcome. 

It  is  right  for  us  to  desire  the  morning, 
to  hope  for  it,  to  weary  for  it,  to  inquire  as 
to  the  signs  of  it  hour  after  hour.  God 
has  set  this  joy  before  us,  and  it  were 
Btrange  indeed  if,  when  compassed  about 
with  so  many  sorrows,  we  could  forget  it. 


THE    MORNING.  77 

or  be  heedless  as  to  its  arrival.  For  the 
coming  of  the  morning  is  the  coming  of  Plim 
whom  we  long  to  see.  It  is  the  coming  of 
Him  "  who  turneth  the  shadow  of  death 
into  the  morning."  (Amos  v.  8.)  It  is  the 
return  of  Him  whose  absence  has  been 
night,  and  whose  presence  will  be  day.  It 
is  the  return  of  Him  who  is  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  life,  and  who  brings  resur- 
rection with  Him  ;  the  return  of  Him  who 
is  creation's  Lord,  and  who  brings  with 
Him  deliverance  to  creation  ;  the  return 
of  Him  who  is  the  church's  Head,  and 
who  bring§  with  Him  triumph  and  glad 
ness  to  his  church. 

All  the  joy,  the  calm,  the  revivifying 
freshness  of  the  morning  are  wrapt  up  in 
Him.  When  He  appears,  day  appears, 
life  appears,  fruitfulness  appears.  The  curse 
departs.  The  "  bondage  of  corruption  "  is 
no  more.  Clouds,  storms,  troubles,  sorrows 
vanish.  The  face  of  nature  reassumes  the 
emile  of  unfallen  times.  It  is  earth's  fes- 
H  3 


78  THE    MORNma. 

tival,  the  world's  jubilee.  "  The  heavens  re- 
joice, the  earth  is  glad,  the  sea  roars  and  the 
fulness  thereof,  the  fields  are  joyful  and  all 
that  is  therein,  the  trees  of  the  wood  re- 
joice, the  floods  clap  their  hands,  and  the 
hills  are  joyful  together  before  the  Lord ; 
for  He  has  come,  for  He  has  come  to  judge 
the  earth ;  with  righteousness  shall  he 
judge  the  world,  and  the  people  with  his 
truth."  (Psa.  xcvi.  11 ;  xcviii.  7.) 

This  morning  has  been  long  anticipated 
Age  after  age  it  has  attracted  the  church's 
eye,  and  fixed  her  hope.  On  the  promise 
of  it  her  faith  has  been  resting,  and  towards 
the  hastening  of  it  her  prayers  have  gone 
forth.  Though  afar  off,  it  has  been  de- 
scried, and  rejoiced  in  as  the  sure  consum- 
mation towards  which  all  things  are  moving 
forward  according  to  the  Father's  purpose. 
"  There  is  a  morning  "  has  been  the  word 
of  consolation  brought  home  to  the  bur- 
dened heart  of  many  a  saint  when  ready  to 
say,  with  David,  "  I  am  desolate,"  or  with 


THE   MORNING.  79 

Jeremiah,  "  He  hath  set  me  in  dark  places 
as  they  that  be  dead  of  old." 

Let  us  dwell  for  a  little  on  some  of  these 
Old  Testament  allusions  to  the  morning. 
Let  us  take  first  the  30th  Psalm. 

David  had  been  in  sorrow,  and  in  com- 
ing out  of  it  he  makes  known  to  the  saints 
his  consolations  : — "  Sing  unto  the  Lord, 
O  ye  saints  of  his,  and  give  thanks  at  the 
remembrance  of  his  holiness.  For  there  is 
but  a  moment  in  his  anger ;  in  his  favour  is 
life;  weeping  may  endure  for  a  night, but  joy 

COMETH  IN  THE  MORNING."  (Psa.  XXX.  4,5.) 

The  earnest  of  that  morning  he  had  already 
tasted,  but  the  morning  itself  he  anticipates. 
Then  joy  has  come.  Then  he  can  say, 
(verse  11,)  "  Thou  hast  turned  for  me  my 
mourning  into  dancing :  thou  hast  put  off 
my  sackcloth,  and  girded  me  with  glad- 
ness." But  it  is  the  voice  of  a  greater  than 
David  that  is  heard  in  this  Psalm.  It  is 
one  of  Christ's  resurrection  Psalms,  like 
the  18th  and  the  116th.     He  was  "lifted 


80  THE   MORNING. 

up,"  SO  that  his  foes  were  not  made  to  re- 
joice over  him.  He  cried,  and  was  "  healed." 
His  "  soul  was  brought  up  from  the  grave." 
There  was  anger  against  Him  "  for  a  mo« 
ment,"  when  as  the  sinner's  substitute  he 
bore  the  sinner's  curse.  But  in  Jeliovah's 
favour  there  was  "  life."  He  had  a  night  of 
weeping,  a  night  of  "  strong  crying  and 
tears,"  when  his  soul  was  "  sorrowful  even 
unto  death,"  and  when  beneath  the  waves 
of  that  sorrow  he  sunk,  commending  his 
spirit  into  the  Father's  hands.  But  it  was 
a  night  no  more.  Morning  came,  and  with 
morning,  joy.  Coming  forth  from  viie  tomb, 
he  left  all  his  sorrow  behind  :  his  sackcloth 
was  put  off,  and  he  arose  "  girded  with 
gladness."  He  found  morning  and  joy ; 
and  he  is  "  the  first-fruits  of  them  that 
slept."  His  rising  was  the  rising  of  his 
saints.  There  was  a  morning  for  him, 
therefore  there  shall  be  one  for  us, — a 
morning  bright  with  resurrection -glory. 
Let  us  next    take   Psalm   forty-ninth. 


THE    MORNING.  8l 

These  are  Christ's  words,  as  is  proved  from 
the  quotation  of  verse  4th  in  Matt.  xiii. 
85.  He  summons  the  whole  world  to  listen. 
He  "  speaks  of  wisdom,"  for  he  is  Wisdom. 
He  points  to  the  vanity  of  riches,  and 
their  insufficiency  to  redeem  a  soul ;  and 
who  knew  so  well  as  he  what  a  ransom 
Was  needed  ?  He  sees  men  going  on  in 
their  wickedness,  self-confidence,  and  vain- 
glory. He  proclaims  their  madness  and 
guilt, — speaking  of  them  as  incurable  from 
generation  to  generation.  He  contrasts 
the  end  of  the  wicked  and  the  end  of 
the  righteous  ;  "  like  sheep  the  former  are 
laid  in  the  grave," — buried  out  of  sight, 
forgotten,  unmourned.  "  Over  them  the 
righteous  shall  have  dominion  in  the 
MORNING."  The  morning  then  brings  do- 
minion to  the  righteous, — redemption  from 
the  power  of  the  grave.  In  this  Jesus  re- 
joiced ;  in  this  let  us  rejoice.  This  joy  of 
the  morning  was  set  before  him ;  it  is  the 
same  joy  that  is  set  before  us.     Dominion 


82  THE   MORNING. 

in  the  morning  is  that  to  which  we  look 
forward, — a  share  in  the  first  resurrection, 
of  which  they  who  are  partakers  live  and 
reign  with  Christ. 

Look  again  at  the  forty-sixth  Psalm.  It 
is  the  utterance  of  the  faith  of  Israel's 
faithful  ones,  in  the  time  of  "  Jacob's 
trouble."  The  earth  is  shaken  (verse  2, 
compared  with  Haggai  ii.  6 ;  and  Heb. 
xii.  26,  27) ;  the  sea  and  the  waves  roai 
(ver.  3,  comp.  with  Luke  xxi.  25) :  but 
there  is  a  river  whose  streams  gladden 
them.  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her.  Nay, 
"  God  helps  her  when  the  morning  ap- 
PEARETH,"  (ver.  5,  margin,)  just  as  in  t/ie 
morning  watch  he  looked  out  from  the 
fiery  cloud  and  troubled  the  Egyptians. 
Then  the  heathen  are  scattered  at  his 
voice, — he  sweeps  off  every  enemy,  he 
makes  wars  to  cease,  and  sets  himself  on 
high  over  the  nations,  as  King  of  kings, 
"  exalted  in  the  earth."  From  which  we 
S^»'iLox  that  the  morning  brings  with  it  de- 


THE    MORNING.  83 

liverance  from  danger, — victory  over  ene- 
mies,— the  renewal  of  the  earth, — peace  to 
the  nations, — the  establishment  of  Mes- 
siah's glorious  throne.  What  a  morning 
of  joy  must  that  be,  for  the  church,  for 
Israel,  for  the  whole  earth  ! — resurrection 
for  the  church,  restoration  for  Israel,  re- 
titution  for  the  earth  ! 

Look  at  the  110th  Psalm.  We  see  Jesus 
at  Jehovah's  right  hand, — waiting  till  his 
enemies  be  made  his  footstool ;  and  then 
He  who  said  unto  him  "  Sit,"  shall  say 
"  Arise."  (Psa.  Ixxxii.  8.)  He  is  yet  to 
have  dominion  on  earth,  and  to  sit  upon 
the  throne  of  his  father  David.  Instead 
of  "  a  gainsaying  people,"  as  he  had  in  the 
day  of  his  weakness,  he  is  to  have  "  a  will- 
ing people  in  the  day  of  his  power ; "  all 
arrayed  in  the  beauties  of  holiness  ;  more 
numerous  and  resplendent  than  the  dew 
from  the  womb  of  the  morning.  Willing- 
ness, beauty,  holiness,  brightness,  num- 
ber ; — these  shall  mark  his  people  in  that 


84  THE    MORNING. 

morning  of  joy  which  his  coming  shall 
produce.  **  The  dew  (says  one)  is  de- 
posited in  greatest  plenty  about  the  break- 
ing of  the  dawn,  and  refresheth  with  its 
numerous  drops  the  leaves  and  plants  and 
blades  of  grass  on  which  it  resteth;  so 
shall  the  saints  of  God,  coming  forth  from 
their  invisible  abodes  out  of  the  womb  of 
the  morning,  refresh  the  world  with  their 
benignant  influence;  and  therefore  are  they 
likened  to  the  dew,  for  all  nature  is  so 
constituted  of  God,  as  to  bear  witness  of 
that  day  of  regeneration  which  then  shall 
dawn."  * 

Read  also  "  the  last  words  of  David," 
(2  Sam.  xxiii.  1 — 4,)  in  which,  as  in  the 
72nd  Psalm,  "  the  prayers  of  David  are 
ended,"  or  summed  up.  "  There  shall  be 
a  just  one  ruling  over  men,  ruling  in  the 
fear  of  God ;  as  the  light  of  the  morn- 

*  It  is  interesting  to  notice,  that  while  David  speaks 
of  "  the  womb  of  the  morning  "  in  connexion  with  the 
dew,  Job  asks,  *'  Who  hath  begotten  the  drops  of  dew  f 
out  of  whose  womb  came  the  ice  ?"  Job  xxxviii.  '28. 


THE    MORNINO.  85 

INO  shall  he  arise,  the  Sun  of  an  uncloud- 
ed morning,  shining  after  rain  upon  the 
tender  grass  of  the  earth."  Not  till  that 
Just  One  comes  is  the  morning  to  dawn,  for 
he  is  its  light ;  and  from  his  countenance 
is  to  break  forth  that  light  in  which  all 
earth  is  to  rejoice.  Then  the  darkness  ot 
the  long  night  shall  disappear,  and  the 
brief  tribulation  tasted  in  the  time  of  ab- 
sence be  forgotten  in  the  abounding  blessed- 
ness of  his  everlasting  presence. 

Let  us  hear  how,  in  "  the  Song,"  the 
bride  refers  to  this  same  morning.  She 
rejoices  in  the  Bridegroom's  assured  love, 
and  her  desires  or  longings  are  not  ques- 
tionings as  to  the  relationship  in  which 
she  stands  to  him.  This  is  with  her  a  set- 
tled thing,  for  she  has  tasted  that  the  Lord 
is  gracious.  *'  I  am  my  beloved's,  and  mj 
beloved  is  mine."  What  direction  then  do 
her  longings  take  ?  Her  "  eyes  are  towards 
the  hills,"  over  which  she  expects  to  be- 
hold him  coining  like  a  roe.     Thus  she 


86  THE    MORNING. 

pleads  with  him  not  to  tarry;  "Make 
haste,  my  beloved,  and  be  thou  like  to  a 
roe,  or  to  a  young  hart  upon  the  mountains 
of  spices."  (viii.  14.)  Thus  also  she  an- 
ticipates the  morning  of  fuller  joy,  even 
while  enjoying  present  fellowship  ;  "  He 
feedeth  among  the  lilies  until  the  day 
break  and  the  shadows  flee  away."  (ii.  16, 
IT.)  And  thus  the  Bridegroom  himself, 
feeling,  if  one  may  so  speak,  the  loneliness 
of  the  night,  and  that  it  is  "  not  good  to 
be  alone,"  longs,  like  herself,  for  day,  and 
resolves  to  climb  the  hills,  where  he  may 
not  only  be  regaled  with  freshest  odours, 
but  may  catch  the  earliest  gleam  of  dawn  : 
"  Until  the  day  break,  and  the  shadows 
flee  away,  I  will  get  me  to  the  mountain  of 
myrrh,  and  to  the  hill  of  frankincense." 
(iv.  6.)  On  that  hill  let  us  meet  him  in 
faith,  and  watch  with  him  in  hope,  yet 
ever  remembering,  that  though  this  joy 
which  faith  gives  here  is  unspeakably 
comforting,  it  is  not  the  gladness  of  the 


THE    MORNING.  87 

marriage  supper, — it  is  not  the  blessedness 
of  the  bridal  day.  For  he  himself,  while 
telling  his  disciples,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you 
always,"  says  also  this,  "  I  will  not  hence- 
forth drink  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine  until 
the  day  that  I  shall  drink  it  new  with  you 
in  my  Father's  kingdom."  (Matt.  xxvi. 
29.) 

Thus  we  see  all  kinds  of  joy  brought 
within  the  circle  of  this  morning.  It  is  a 
morning  of  joy,  because  it  is  the  morning 
introduced  by  Him,  who  s^id,  "  These 
things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  my 
joy  might  remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joy 
might  be  full  "  (John  xv.  11)  ;  by  Him  "  in 
whose  presence  there  is  fulness  of  joy,  and 
at  whose  right  hand  there  are  pleasures  for 
evermore."  (Psa.  xvi.  11.)  But  let  us 
mark  the  different  kinds  of  joy  and  the 
different  figures  denoting  it. 

There  is    the  joy   of  deliverance   from 

overwhelming  danger.      This  was  the  joy 

af  the  Jews  when  their  adversary  perished, 
i  2 


88  THE    MORNING. 

and  Mordecai  was  exalted;  "  The  Jews  had 

light,  and  gla-dness,  and  joy,  and  honour, 
....  the  Jews  had  joy  and  gladness,  a  feast 
and  a  good  day."  (Esther  viii.  16.)  Such 
shall  be  the  church's  joy  in  the  morning  of 
her  great  deliverance.  There  is  the  joy  of 
escape  from  captivity  and  return  from  exile, 
such  as  made  Israel  feel  "  as  men  that 
dream."  Such  shall  be  the  church's  joy 
when  her  long  captivity  is  done.  *'  Then 
shall  her  mouth  be  filled  with  laughter, 
and  her  tongue  with  singing ;  having  sowed 
in  tears  she  reaps  in  joy."  (Psa.  cxxvi.  2.) 
There  is  the  joy  of  harvest  (Isa.  ix.  3) ;  and 
such  shall  be  the  church's  joy.  There  is 
the  mother's  joy  when  her  pangs  are  over, 
and  the  child  is  born  into  the  world.  (John 
xvi.  20.)  With  such  joy  shall  we  rejoice, 
and  our  joy  no  man  taketh  from  us.  The 
joy  in  reserve  for  us  is  manifold  and  large ; 
it  will  abide  and  satisfy ;  it  is  the  joy  of 
the  mornijig ; — a  long  glad  day  before  us  ; 
no  evening  with  its  lengthening  shadows. 


THE    MORNING.  89 

no  night  with  its  chills  and  daikness. 
"  There  shall  he  no  night  there,  and 
they  need  no  candle  neither  light  of  the 
sun,  for  the  Lord  God  giveth  them  light, 
and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 
(Rev.  xxii.  5.) 

The  prospect  of  this  morning  —  this 
'*  morning  of  joy  " — nerves  and  cheers  u« 
under  all  our  trihulation.  Were  this  morn- 
ino-  an   uncertaintv,  how  dark  would  the 

ni'^ht  seem !  how  difficult  for  us  to  fight 
o 

against  faintness  and  despair!  But  the 
thought  of  morning  invigorates  and  hraces 
us.  We  can  set  our  faces  to  the  storm,  for 
behind  it  lies  the  calm.  We  can  hear  the 
parting,  for  the  meeting  is  not  distant. 
AVe  can  afford  to  weep,  for  the  tear  shall 
soon  be  wiped  away.  We  can  watch  the 
tedious  sick  bed,  for  soon  "  the  inhabitant 
shall  not  say,  I  am  sick."  We  can  look 
quietly  into  the  grave  of  buried  love  and 
cherished  hope,  for  resurrection  shines  be 
yond  it.  Things  may  be  against  us  herre, 
I  3 


90  THE   MORNING. 

but  they  9xefor  us  hereafter.  The  lier^  ii 
but  an  hour ;  the  hereafter  is  a  whole 
eternity. 

But  for  the  world — the  heedless,  plea- 
sure-chasing world,  they  have  no  such 
brightenings  for  their  dark  hours  of  sor- 
row.  No  morning  comes  to  them.  Their 
sun  sets,  but  rises  not  again ;  their  life 
goes  down  in  darkness,  without  a  hope. 
It  is  night — night  infinite  and  endless,  to 
them ;  "  the  blackness  of  darkness  for 
everl"  No  healing  of  their  wounds,  no 
wiping  away  of  their  tears,  no  binding  up 
of  their  broken  hearts  !  They  reject  the  in- 
iinite  sacrifice,  they  sport  away  their  day 
of  salvation,  and  their  history  winds  up  in 
judgment  and  the  second  death.  "  If  they 
speak  not  according  to  this  word^^  (says 
the  prophet,}  "  there  is  no  morning  for 
them,'^  (Isa.  viii.  20,  margin.)  This  word, 
"  which  by  the  gospel  is  preached  unto 
them,"  (1  Peter  i.  25,)  they  slight  or  scorn, 
and  vengeance  overtakes  them  for  rejec* 


THE    MORNING.  91 

tion  !  "  Therefore,"  says  the  same  prophet, 
"•  shall  evil  come  upon  you  ;  thou  shall  not 
know  its  morning.''  (Isa.  xlvii.  11,  margin.) 
A.n  evil  without  a  deliverance,  a  night 
without  a  morning,  is  their  portion ! 

Sad  closing  of  a  life-time's  weariness! 
Joy  they  have  never  known,  though  its  full 
cup  has  often  been  handed  to  them  by 
God,  and  they  pressed  to  drink  it !  For 
what  is  each  message,  each  summons,  each 
warning,  but  God  saying  to  them,  "  Come 
share  my  love,  come  taste  my  joy  ! "  Sor- 
row they-  have  known,  for  how  could  they 
miss  knowing  it  in  such  a  world  !  Heavy- 
burdens,  keen  griefs,  sharp  stings,  bitter 
memories,  hard  misgivings,  intolerable 
forebodings,  dark  self-questionings, "  What 
am  I,  or  what  shall  I  be?"  all  these, 
crowding  in  upon  a  soul  that  has  no  God, 
pouring  into  a  heart  that  has  no  outlet  for 
its  sorrows  in  the  bosom  of  a  Saviour,  are 
enough  to  dry  up  life's  springs  even  when 


92  THE    MORNING. 

deepest  *  Yet  all  these  are  but  the  be- 
ginning of  sorrows  !  There  is  a  fuller  cup 
yet  to  be  given  to  them  to  drink — eternal 
wormwood!  Then  the  heart  would  fain 
break,  but  cannot.  .  For  the  sorrow  is  as 
eternal  as  it  is  infinite.  They  shall  seek 
for  death,  but  shall  not  be  able  to  find  it ; 
for  the  second  death  is  the  death  that 
never  dies. 

*  Goethe,  the  world's  favourite,  if  one  may  so  speak, 
confessed  when  about  eighty  years  old,  that  he  could 
not  remember  being  in  a  really  happy  state  of  mind 
even  for  a  few  weeks  together ;  and  that  when  he 
wished  to  feel  comfortable  he  had  to  veil  his  self- 
consciousness  !  And  the  following  is  the  closing  sen- 
tence of  his  self-biography  :  "  Child !  child  !  no  more. 
The  coursers  of  time,  lashed,  as  it  were,  by  invisible 
spirits,  hurry  on  the  light  car  of  our  destiny ;  and  all 
that  we  can  do,  is  in  cool  self-possession  to  hold  the 
reins  with  a  firm  hand,  and  to  guide  the  wheels,  now  to 
the  left,  now  to  the  right,  a  stone  here,  a  precipice 
there.  Whither  it  is  hurrying  who  can  tell  ?  And  who 
indeed  can  remember  the  point  from  which  it  started  ?  " 
Alas !  for  the  poor  world,  that,  with  all  its  refinement 
and  poetry  and  philosophy,  knows  not  whither  it  is 
hurrying !  As  if  no  voice  (more  than  man's)  had  ever 
gaid,  '•  I  am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life." 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH. 

The  issue  of  the  conflict  between  the 
saints  and  death  was  decided  when  the 
Lord  arose.  He  met  the  enemy  on  his  own 
territory,  his  own  battle-field,  and  over- 
came.  He  entered  the  palace  of  the  king 
of  terrors,  and  there  laid  hold  of  the  strong 
man,  shaking  his  dwelling  to  its  founda- 
tions as  he  came  forth,  carrying  away  its 
gates  along  with  him,  and  giving  warning 
of  being  about  to  return,  in  order  to 
complete  his  conquest  by  "  spoiling  his 
goods,"  and  robbing  him  of  the  treasures 
which  he  had  kept  so  long,— the  dust  of 
sleeping  saints. 

The  first  act  of  spoiling  the  strong  man 


94  THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH. 

of  his  goods  begins  at  the  resurrection.  Of 
this  we   have   already  spoken  generally; 
but  the  subject  is  so  largely  dwelt  upon  in 
Scripture,  that  something  more  special  is 
needed.  For  it  is  a  hope  so  fruitful  in  con- 
solation to  us  who  are  still  sojourners  in  a 
dying  world    like    this,  and    yet   so  little 
prized,  that  we  must  not  pass  it  slightly  by. 
Let  us  look  at  it  in  the  aspects  in  which 
the  apostle  spreads  it  out  before  us  in  the 
15th  of  his  first  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians. 
The  vision  which  he  there  holds  before 
us,  is  one  of  glory  and  joy.    It  is  a  morning 
landscape,  and  contrasts  brightly  with  pre- 
sent night  and  sorrow.     It  draws  aside  the 
veil  that  hides  from  view  our  much-longed- 
for  heritage,  showing  us  from  our  prospect- 
hill  the  excellence  of  the  land  that  shall  so 
Boon  be  ours, — plains  richer  than  Sharon, 
valleys  more  fruitful  than  Sibmah,  moun- 
tains  goodlier  than  Carmel  or   Lebanon. 
The  then  and  the  now,  the  there  and  the 
here,  are  strangely  diverse.    Here  the  mor- 


THE    TICTORY    OA^ER   DEATH.  95 

tal,  there  the  immortal;  here  the  corrupt- 
ible, there  the  incorruptible ;  here  the 
earthly,  there  the  heavenly;  here  the  do- 
minion of  death,  there  death  swallowed  up 
of  victory  ;  here  the  grave  devouring  its 
prey,  there  the  spoiler  of  the  grave  coming 
forth  in  resurrection-power,  to  claim  each 
particle  of  holy  dust,  undoing  death's  handi- 
work, spoiling  the  spoiler,  bringing  forth  in 
beauty  that  which  had  been  laid  down  in 
vileness,  clothing  with  honour  that  which 
had  been  sown  in  shame. 

"  The  trumpet  shall  sound,  the  dead 
shall  be,  raised  incorruptible,  and  we  shall 
be  changed ! "  All  this  "  in  a  moment,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye."  Other  changes  are 
gradual,  this  sudden.  There  is  the  ebbing 
and  the  flowing;  there  is  the  growing  up  in- 
to manhood,  and  the  growing  down  into  old 
age ;  there  is  the  slow  opening  of  spring  into 
summer,  and  of  summer  into  autumn ;  but 
this  shall  be  unlike  all  these  changes.  It 
shall  be  instantaneous, — like  the  lightning's 


96  THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH. 

flash,  or  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  He  who 
spake  and  it  was  done,  shall  speak  again, 
and  it  shall  be  done ;  he  who  said,  Let  there 
be  light,  and  there  was  light,  shall  speak, 
and  light  shall  come  forth  out  of  the  grave's 
thick  darkness. 

"  This  corruptible  shall  put  on  incorrup- 
tion ! "  There  will  be  an  entire  casting 
aside  of  mortality  with  all  its  wrappings  of 
corruption,  with  all  its  relics  of  dishonour. 
Every  particle  of  evil  shall  be  shaken  out 
of  us,  and  "  this  vile  body  "  transfigured 
into  the  likeness  of  the  Lord's  own  glo- 
rious body.  We  entered  this  world  mortal 
and  corruptible;  all  our  life  long  we  are 
imbibing  mortality  and  corruption,  becom- 
ing more  and  more  thoroughly  mortal  and 
corruptible ;  the  grave  sets  its  seal  to  all 
this,  and  crumbles  us  down  into  common 
earth.  But  the  trumpet  sounds,  and  all  tliis 
is  gone.  Mortality  falls  off,  and  all  per- 
taining to  it  is  left  behind.  No  more  of 
dross  or  disease  in  our  frame.  We  can  then 


THE   VICTORX   OVER   DEaIH.  97 

defy  sickness,  and  pain,  and  death.  We 
can  say  to  our  bodies,  be  pained  no  more ; 
to  our  limbs,  be  weary  no  more;  to  oui 
lips,  be  parched  no  more ;  to  our  eye,  be 
dim  no  more. 

"  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting?"  He 
that  hath  the  power  of  death  is  the  devil,  the 
old  serpent,  and  he  torments  us  here.  Sin 
gave  him  his  sting,  and  the  law  gave  sin 
its  strength;  but  now  that  sin  has  been 
forgiven  and  the  law  magnified,  the  sting 
is  plucked  out.  The  stinging  begins  with 
our  birth;  for  life  throughout;  is  one  un- 
ceasing battle  with  death,  until,  for  a  season, 
death  conquers,  and  we  fall  beneath  his 
power.  But  the  prey  shall  be  taken  from 
the  mighty  and  his  victims  rescued  for 
ever.  Now  sin  has  passed  away,  and  what 
has  become  of  death's  sting, — its  sharpness, 
its  pain,  its  power  to  kill  ?  It  cannot  touch 
the  immortal  and  the  incorruptible ! 

"  O  grave,  where  is  now  thy  victory  ?  " 
A  conqueror  all  along  hast  thou  been,— 


98  THE   VICTORY   OVER  DEATH. 

never  yet  baffled, — thy  course  one  perpe- 
tual triumph, — the  ally  of  death,  following 
in  his  footsteps;  not  only  smiting  down  the 
victim,  but  devouring  it,  taking  it  into  thy 
den,  and  consuming  it  bone  by  bone,  till 
every  particle  is  crumbled  into  dust,  as  if 
to  make  victory  so  sure  that  a  retrieval  of  it 
would  be  absolutely  impossible.  Yet  thy 
victories  are  over;  the  tide  of  battle  is 
turned  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  Look 
at  these  rising  myriads, — thou  canst  hold 
them  no  longer :  thou  thoughtest  them  thy 
prey,  when  they  were  but  given  to  keep 
for  a  little  moment.  See  these  holy  ones, 
without  one  spot,  not  one  stain  on  which  thy 
sting,  O  death,  can  fasten ;  not  a  weakness, 
which  might  encourage  thee  again  to  hope 
for  a  second  victory  !  All  thy  doings  of  six 
thousand  years  undone  in  a  moment !  Not 
a  scar  remaining  from  all  thy  many  wounds; 
not  a  trace,  or  disfigurement,  or  blot, — all 
perfection, — eternal  beauty  !  And  look  at 
these  other  holy  ones,  also  glorified !  They 


THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH.  99 

have  not  tasted  death,  nor  passed  down 
into  the  grave.  Over  them  thou  hast  had 
no  power.  Thou  hast  waged  war  with 
them  in  vain.  They  have  seen  no  corrup- 
tion, atid  they  remain  monuments  that 
thou  wert  not  invincible.  They  have  de- 
fied thy  power,  and  now  they  are  beyond 
thy  reach  ' 

Ah,  this  is  victory  !  It  is  not  escaping 
by  stealth  out  of  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
it  is  conquering  him !  It  is  not  bribing  him 
to  let  us  go;  it  is  open  and  triumphant 
victory, — victory  which  not  only  routs  and 
disgraces  the  enemy,  but  swallows  him  up, 
• — victory  achieved  in  righteousness,  and  in 
behalf  of  these  who  had  once  been  *'  law 
ful  captives." 

And  the  victor,  who  is  he  ?  Not  we,  but 
our  Brother-king.  His  sword  smote  the 
mighty  one,  and  under  his  shield  we  have 
come  off  conquerors.  The  wreath  is  his  of 
victorious  battle,  not  ours ;  we  are  the  tro- 
phies, not  the  conquerors.     He  overcame 

K  2 


100  THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH. 

How?  By  allowing  himself  to  be  overcome ! 
He  plucked  the  sting  from  death.  How  ? 
By  allowing  it  to  pierce  himself !  He  made 
the  grave  to  let  go  its  hold.  How  ?  By 
going  down  into  its  precincts  and  wrestling 
with  it  in  the  greatness  of  his  strength.  He 
brought  round  the  law  which  was  against 
us  to  be  upon  our  side.  How  ?  By  giving 
the  law  all  that  it  sought,  so  that  it  could 
ask  no  more  either  of  him  or  of  us. 

How  complete  the  victory  over  us  seem- 
ed for  a  while  to  be !  yet  how  complete  the 
reversal !  These  enemies  are  not  only  con- 
quered, but  more  than  conquered.  No 
trace  of  their  former  conquests  remains. 
We  not  only  live,  but  are  made  immortal. 
We  not  only  are  rescued  from  the  corrup- 
tion of  the  grave,  but  made  incorruptible 
for  ever. 

Victory,  then,  is  our  watchword.  We 
entered  on  the  conflict  at  first,  assured  of 
final  victory  by  Him  who  said,  **  I  am  the 
resurrection  and  the  life;  he  that  believeth 


THE    VICTORY   OVER    DEATH.  lOi 

on  me,  thoiigli  he  were  dead  yet  shall  he  live, 
*iid  whosoever  liveth  and  helieveth  on  me 
shall  never  die;" — ^by  Him  who  to  all  his 
many  promises  of  spiritual  life  and  blessing 
added  this,  "  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at 
the  last  day."  When  taking  up  sword  and 
shield,  we  were  sure  of  success;  we  could 
boast  when  putting  on  the  harness  as  he 
that  putteth  it  off  in  triumph.  Victory  was 
our  watchword  during  every  conflict,  even 
the  hardest  and  the  sorest.  Victory  was 
our  watchword  on  the  bed  of  death,  in  the 
dark  valley,  when  going  down  for  a  sea- 
son into  the  tomb.  Victory  is  to  be  our 
final  watchword  when  re-appearing  from 
the  grave,  leaving  mortality  beneath  us, 
and  ascending  to  glory. 

"  Then  shall  Jehovah  God  -wipe  away 
tears  from  off  all  faces."  (Isa.  xxv.  8;  xxx. 
19;  XXXV.  10;  Ix.  20;  Jer.  xxxi.  12; 
Rev.  vii.  17  ;  xxi.  4.)  We  shall  weep  no 
more.  The  furrows  of  past  tears  are  effaced. 
Tears  of  anguish,  tears  of  parting,  tears  of 
K  3 


102  THE    VlCTORr   OVER   DEATH. 

bereavement,  tears  of  adversity^  tears  o 
heart-breaking  sorrow,  these  are  forgotten. 
We  cannot  weep  again.  The  fountain  of 
tears  is  dried  up.  God  our  Lord  wipes 
off  the  tears.  It  is  not  thne  that  heals  the 
sorrows  of  the  saints,  or  dries  up  their  tears 
it  is  God;  God  himself;  God  alone.  He 
reserves  this  for  himself,  as  if  it  were  his 
special  joy.  The  world's  only  refuge  in 
grief  is  time,  or  pleasure  ;  but  the  refuge  of 
the  saints  is  God.  This  is  the  true  heal- 
ing of  the  wound  ;  and  the  assurance  to  us 
that  tears  once  wiped  away  by  God  cannot 
flow  again. 

"  The  rebuke  of  his  people  shall  he  t&ke 
away  from  off  all  the  earth.'*  (Isa.  xxv.  8.) 
As  he  is  to  do  this  for  Israel,  so  also  for  the 
church.  Rebuke,  reproach,  persecution, 
have  been  the  church's  lot  on  earth.  The 
world  hated  the  Master,  and  they  have 
hated  the  servant.  The  "  reproach  oi 
Christ,"  (Heb.  xi.,)  is  a  well-known  re- 
proach.    Shame  for  his  name  is  what  his 


THE    VICTORY    OVER   DEATH.  lUj 

iaints  have  been  enduring,  and  shall  en- 
dure  until  he  comes  again.  But  all  this 
is  to  be  reversed.  Soon  the  world's  taunt 
shall  cease.  They  shall  scorn  no  more  ; 
they  shall  hate  no  more ;  I  hey  shall  revile 
no  more,  and  no  more  cast  out  our  names 
as  evil.  Honour  crowns  the  saints,  and 
their  enemies  are  put  to  shame.  It  is  but 
one  day's  reviling  before  men,  and  then  an 
eternity  of  glory  in  the  presence  of  God 
and  of  the  Lamb.  Then  the  name  of  saint 
shall  be  a  name  of  glory,  both  in  earth 
and  heaven. 

Why  shrink  then  from  the  world's  re- 
proach, when  it  is  but  a  breath  at  the 
most,  and  when  we  know  that  it  so  soon 
shall  cease  ?  Why  not  rejoice  that  we  are 
counted  worthy  to  suffer  shame  for  the 
name  of  Jesus,  when  we  know  that  all  that 
afflicts  us  here  is  not  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed  in 
us  ?  The  morning,  and  the  glory  which  the 
morning  brings  with  it,  will  more  than  com- 


104  THE    VICTORY    OVER   DEATH. 

pensate  for  all.  Let  us  be  of  good  cheei 
then,  and  press  onward,  through  evil  re- 
port as  well  as  through  good,  having 
respect  unto  the  recompence  of  reward. 

"  Creation  shall  be  delivered  from  the 
bondage  of  corruption  into  the  glorious 
liberty  of  the  sons  of  God."  That  morn- 
ing which  brings  resurrection  to  us  brings 
restitution  to  creation  —  deliverance  to  a 
groaning  earth.  The  same  Lord  that 
brings  us  out  of  the  tomb,  roils  back  the 
curse  from  off  creation,  effacing  the  vestiges 
of  the  first  Adam's  sin,  and  presenting  a 
fresh  memorial  of  the  second  Adam's 
righteousness.  Happy  world !  when  Satan 
is  bound,  when  the  curse  is  obliterated, 
when  the  bondage  is  broken,  when  the  air 
is  purged,  when  the  soil  is  cleansed,  when 
the  grave  is  emptied,  and  when  the  risen 
saints  take  the  throne  of  creation  to  rule 
in  righteousness  with  the  sceptre  of  the 
righteous  King. 

Resurrection  is  our  hope  ;    our  hope  in 


THE    VICTORY    OVER   DEATH.  105 

life,  our  hope  in  death.  It  is  a  purifying 
hope  It  is  a  gladdening  hope.  It  com- 
forts us  when  laying  in  the  grave  the  clay 
of  those  whom  we  have  loved.  It  cheers 
us  when  feeling  the  weakness  of  our  own 
frame,  and  thinking  how  soon  we  shall  lie 
down  in  dust.  It  refreshes  and  elevates 
when  we  remember  how  much  precious 
dust  earth  has  received  since  the  day  of 
righteous  Abel.  How  sweet  that  name — 
RESURRECTION  !  It  pours  life  into  each 
vein  and  vigour  into  each  nerve  at  the 
very  mention  of  it ! 

It  is  not  carnal  thus  to  bend  over  the 
clay-cold  corpse  and  long  for  the  time  when 
these  very  limbs  shall  move  again ;  when 
that  hand  shall  clasp  ours  as  of  old ;  when 
those  eyes  shall  brighten  ;  when  those  lips 
shall  resume  their  suspended  utterance  ; 
when  we  shall  feel  the  throbbings  of  that 
heart  again !  No.  it  is  scriptural,  it  is 
spiritual.  Some  may  call  it  sentimental  ; 
but  it  is  our  very  nature.     We  cannot  feel 


106  THE   rrCTORT   OVER   DEATH. 

Otherwise,  even  if  we  would.  We  cannot 
but  love  the  clay.  We  cannot  but  be  loth 
to  part  with  it.  We  cannot  but  desire  its 
reanimation.  The.  nature  that  God  has 
given  us  can  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less. 
And  with  nothing  less  has  God  purposed 
to  satisfy  it.  "  Thy  brother  shall  rise 
asrain."  "  Them  that  have  been  laid  to 
sleep  by  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him  '* 
We  feel  the  weight  of  that  mortality 
that  often  makes  life  a  burden ;  yet  we 
say,  "  Not  that  we  would  be  unclothed, 
but  clothed  upon,  that  mortality  may  be 
swallowed  up  of  life."  We  lay  within  the 
tomb  the  desire  of  our  eyes,  yet  we  cling 
to  the  remains,  and  feel  as  if  the  earth  that 
struck  the  coffin  were  wounding  the  body 
on  which  it  falls.  At  such  a  moment  the 
thought  of  opening  graves  and  rising  dust 
is  unutterably  precious.  We  shall  see 
that  face  .again.  We  shall  hear  that  voice 
again.  Not  only  does  the  soul  that  filled 
that  clay  still  live ;    but   that   clay  itself 


THE   VICTORY   OVER   DEATH.  107 

shall  be  revived.  Our  risen  friend  shall  be 
in  very  deed — form,  look,  voice — the  friend 
that  we  have  known  and  loved.  Our 
risen  brother  will  be  all  that  we  knew  him 
here  when,  hand  in  hand,  we  passed 
through  the  wilderness  together,  cheered 
with  the  blessed  thought  that  no  separa- 
tion could  part  us  long,  and  that  the 
grave  itself  could  unlink  neither  hand! 
nor  hearts. 


CHAPTER  Vra, 


THE   REUNION. 


The  family  has  been  all  along  a  scatter- 
ed one.  Not  only  has  it  been  scattered 
along  the  ages,  but  it  has  been  dispersed 
over  every  land.  "  Children  of  the  dis- 
persion "  might  well  be  the  name  of  its 
members.  They  have  no  continuing  city, 
nay,  no  city  at  all  that  they  can  call  their 
own  ;  sure  of  nothing  here  beyond  their 
bread  and  raiment ;  no  where  able  to  reckon 
upon  a  certain  dwelling,  yet  having  always 
the  promise  of  it  some  where. 

Besides  this  scattering,  arising  from  their 
being  thus  called  out  of  every  kindred  and 
nation,  there  are  others  more  bitter.  There 
b  the  scattering  which  persecution  makes, 


THE   REUNION.  109 

when  it  drives  them  from  city  to  city. 
There  is  the  scattering  which  adversity 
makes  when  happy  circles  are  broken  up, 
and  their  fragments  sent  far  asunder. 
There  is  the  scattering  which  oftentimes 
jealousy  and  contention  and  selfish  rivalry 
produce,  even  among  the  saints.  There  is 
the  scattering  which  bereavement  makes, 
when  strong  ties  are  broken,  and  warm 
love  spilt  like  water  on  the  ground  ;  when 
fellowship  is  rent  asunder,  and  living 
sympathies  chilled  by  death,  and  tears  of 
choking  anguish  are  all  the  relief  of  lonelir 
ness  and  sorrow. 

As  Israel  was  scattered  among  the  nor 
tions,  so  have  the  saints  been ;  not  indeed- 
like  Israel,  because  of  the  wrath  of  God 
against  them,  but  still  scattered  every 
where.  "  The  Lord  shall  scatter  thee 
among  all  people,  from  the  one  end  of  the 
earth  even  unto  the  other,"  (Deut.  xxviii. 
64,)  were  God's  words  to  Israel,  and  the 

L 


110  THE   REUNION. 

church  feels  how  truly  they  suit  her  con- 
dition as  a  scattered  flock. 

In  primitive  times,  and  often  since  that, 
in  days  of  trouble  and  persecution,  it  was 
truly  and  literally  a  scattering^  just  as 
when  the  autumn  wind  shakes  down  and 
tosses  the  ripe  leaves  to  and  fro.  But  in 
our  day  it  is  not  so  much  a  scattering,  as  a 
simple  dwelling  asunder, — ^by  the  calling 
out  of  every  nation  the  few  that  make  up 
the  little  flock.  It  is  a  gathering  out^  but 
not  a  gathering  together.  It  is  one  family, 
yet  the  members  know  not,  see  not  each 
other  in  the  flesh.  They  are  drawn  by 
the  Father's  hand,  and  according  to  the 
Father's  purpose,  out  of  kingdoms  and 
families  wide  asunder.  They  have  no 
local  centre,  either  of  interest,  or  of  resi- 
dence, or  of  government ;  no  common 
home,  no  common  meeting-place,  save  that 
which  faith  gives  them  now  in  their  Head 
above,  or  that  hope  which   assures   them 


THE   KEUJSION.  Ill 

of  in  Iho  world  to  come,  where  they  shall 
come  together,  face  to  face,  as  one  house- 
hold, gathered  under  one  roof,  and  seated, 
around  one  table. 

This  separation  and  apparent  disunion 
is  not  natural  or  congenial.  For  there  is 
a  hidden  magnetic  virtue  which  uncon- 
sciously and  irresistibly  draws  them  to- 
wards each  other.  Separation  is  the  pre- 
sent law  of  the  kingdom,  but  this  only 
because  election  is  the  law  of  the  dispensa- 
tion. There  is  an  affinity  among  the  mem- 
bers which  neither  time  nor  distance 
can  destroy.  There  is  a  love  kindled  they 
know  not  how,  kept  alive  they  know  not 
how,  but  strong  and  unquenchable,  the  love 
of  kin,  the  love  of  brotherhood  : 

No  (ligtance  breaks  the  tie  of  blood, 
Brothers  are  brothers  evermore.— 

And  they  feel  this.     Knit  by  the  ties  of  a 

strange  and  unearthly  union,  they  have  a 

conscious  feeling  of  oneness  which  nothing 

l2 


112  THE  REUNION. 

can  shake.  Deep  hidden  in  each  other's 
"  heart  of  hearts,"  they  can  not  consent  to 
be  perpetually  asunder,  but  eagerly  antici- 
pate the  day  of  promised  union. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  separation 
which  they  have  had  to  endure.  Death  has 
torn  them  from  each  other.  From  Abel 
downward  there  has  been  one  long  scene 
of  bereavement.  The  griefs  of  parting 
make  up  the  greatest  amount  of  earth- 
ly suffering  among  the  children  of  men. 
And  from  these  griefs  the  saints  have  not 
been  exempted.  Bitter  have  been  the 
farewells  that  have  been  spoken  on  earth, 
— around  the  death-bed,  or  in  the  prison, 
or  on  the  sea-shore,  or  on  the  home- 
threshold,  or  in  the  city  of  strangers, — the 
farewells  of  men  who  knew  that  they 
should  no  more  meet  till  the  grave  gave 
up  its  trust.  Death  has  been  the  great 
scatterer,  and  the  tomb  has  been  the  great 
receiver  of  the  fragments. 

Our  night  of  weeping  has   taken   much 


THE   REUNION.  113 

>f  its  gloom  and  sadness  from  these  rend- 
mgs  asunder.  The  pain  of  parting,  in  the 
case  of  the  saints,  has  much  to  alleviate  it, 
but  still  the  bitterness  is  there.  We  feel 
that  we  must  separate,  and  though  it  be 
only  for  a  while,  still  our  hearts  bleed  with 
the  wound. 

But  there  is  reunion.  And  one  of  the 
joys  of  the  morning  is  this  reunion  among 
the  saints.  During  the  night  they  had 
been  scattered,  in  the  morning  they  are 
gathered  together.  In  the  wilderness  they 
have  been  separated,  but  i»  the  kingdom 
they  shall  meet.  During  this  age  they 
have  been  like  the  drops  of  the  fitful 
shower ;  in  the  age  to  come  they  shall  be 
like  the  dew  of  Hermon,  the  dew  that  de- 
scended upon  the  mountains  of  Zion,  one 
radiant  company,  alighting  upon  the  holy 
hills,  and  bringing  with  them  refreshment 
to  a  weary  earth.  Then  shall  fully  be 
answered  the  prayer  of  the  Lord,  "That 
they  all  may  be  one ;  as  thou,  Father,  art 
l3 


114  ■   THE   KEUNION. 

in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  be 
one  in  us :  that  the  world  may  believe 
that  thou  hast  sent  me.  And  the  glory 
which  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them ; 
that  they  may  be  one,  even  as  we  are  one : 
I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may 
be  made  perfect  in  one  ;  and  that  the  world 
may  know  that  thou  hast  sent  me,  and 
hast  loved  them  as  thou  hast  loved  me." 
(John  XV ii.  21—23.) 

"I  will  smite  the  Shepherd,  and  the 
sheep  of  the  flock  shall  be  scattered 
abroad."  (Matt.  xxvi.  31.)  Such  is  our 
present  position — a  smitten  Shepherd  and 
a  scattered  flock  !  But  the  day  is  at  hand 
when  "he  that  scattered  shall  gather," 
and  there  shall  be  a  glorified  Shepherd  and 
a  gathered  flock;  not  merely  one  flock, 
one  fold,  and  one  Shepherd,  but  one  flock 
gathered  into  the  one  fold  around  the 
one  Shepherd,  the  scattering  ceased,  the 
wandering  at  an  end,  the  famine  ex- 
changed for  the  green  pastures,  the  danger 


THE   REUNION.  115 

forgotten,  and  the  devouring  lion  bound. 
Then  shall  fully  come  to  pass  the  prophecy 
regarding  the  issues  of  the  Surety's  death, 
*'  that  he  should  gather  together  in  one 
the  children  of  God  that  were  scattered 
abroad."  (John  xi.  52.)  Then  what  ia 
wiitten  of  Israel  shall,  in  a  higher  sense,  be 
fulfilled  in  the  church  :  "  Behold,  I,  even  I, 
will  both  search  my  sheep,  and  seek  them 
out.  As  a  shepherd  seeketh  out  his 
flock  in  the  day  that  he  is  among  his 
sheep  that  are  scattered;  so  will  I  seek 
out  my  sheep,  and  will  deliver  them  out  of 
all  places  where  they  have  been  scattered 
in  the  cloudy  and  dark  day.  I  will  feed 
them  in  a  good  pasture,  and  upon  the  high 
mountains  of  Israel  shall  their  fold  be. 
And  I  will  set  up  one  shepherd  over  them, 
and  he  shall  feed  them,  even  my  servant 
David;  he  shall  feed  them,  and  he  shall 
be  their  shepherd."  And  a?  the. ingather- 
ing of  Israel  is  to  be  a  blessing  diffusing  it- 
self on   every  side,  so  is  the  reunion   of 


116  THE  liEUNION. 

the  scattered  church  to  be  to  the  world  ;  so 
that  we  may  use  Israel's  promise  here 
also :  "  I  will  make  them  and  the  places 
round  about  my  hill  a  blessing ;  and  I 
■will  cause  the  shower  to  come  down  in  his 
season  ;  there  shall  be  showers  of  blessing." 
(Ezek.  xxxiv.  11—26.) 

This  reunion  is  when  the  Lord  returns* 
When  the  Head  appears,  then  the  members 
come  together.  They  have  always  been 
united, — for  just  as  the  Godhead  was  still 
united  to  the  manhood  of  Christ,  even 
when  his  body  was  in  the  tomb,  so  the 
oneness  between  the  members,  both  with 
each  other  and  with  their  Head,  has  been 
always  kept  unbroken.  But  when  he 
comes,  this  union  is  fully  felt,  realized,  seen, 
manifested.  "  When  Christ  who  is  our  life 
shall  appear,  then  shall  we  also  appear  with 
him  in  glory."  (Col.  iii.  4.) 

This  reunion  is  at  "the  resurrection  of 
the  just."  Then  every  remaining  particle 
of  separation  is  removed, — soul  and  body 


THE   REUNION.  117 

meet, — both  perfect ;  no  trace  of  "  this 
vile  body,"  or  this  dust-cleaving  soul.  The 
corruptible  has  gone,  and  the  incorruptible 
has  come.  Our  reunion  shall  be  in  in  cor- 
ruption ;  hands  that  shall  never  grow  pal- 
sied clasping  each  other,  and  renewing 
broken  companionships, — eyes  that  shall 
never  dim  gazing  on  each  other  with  purer 
love. 

This  re-union  is  in  the  cloud  of  glory, 
in  which  the  Lord  comes  again.  When  he 
went  up  from  Olivet,  this  cloud  received 
him,  and  fain  would  his  disciples  have 
gone  up  along  with  him.  But  into  that 
glorious  pavilion,  —  his  tabernacle,  —  shall 
they  yet  ascend ;  there  to  meet  with  him, 
and  to  embrace  each  other,  coming  to- 
gether into  that  mysterious  dwelling-place, 
from  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  "  out  of 
every  kindred,  and  nation,  and  tongue,  and 
people." 

This  reunion  is  the  marriage-day,  and 
that    cloud-curtained    pavilion    the    Bride* 


118  THE   REUNION. 

groom's  chamber.  There  the  bride  is  now 
seen  as  one.  And  there  she  realizes  her 
own  oneness  in  a  way  unimagined  before. 
There  too  the  marriage-feast  is  spread,  and 
the  bride  takes  her  place  of  honour  at  the 
marriage-table, — "glorious  within,"  as  well 
as  without,  —  not,  like  the  hai-lot-biide, 
decked  with  purple,  and  scarlet,  and  gold, 
and  gems  (Rev.  xvii.  4;  xviii.  16);  but 
"arrayed  in  fine  linen,  clean  and  white." 
(xix.  8.) 

It  is  to  this  reunion,  and  to  the  honours 
that  shall  then  be  given  to  the  whole  church 
at  once,  that  the  apostle  refers,  when  he 
says,  that  "  they  (the  Old  Testament  saints, 
to  whom  the  promises  came)  without  us 
should  not  be  made  perfect."  (Heb.  xi.  39, 
40.)  Thus  he  intimates  that  the  actual 
possession  of  the  thing  promised  has  not 
yet  been  given.  It  is  deferred  until  the 
Lord  come,  in  order  that  no  age,  nor  sec- 
tion, nor  individuals  of  the  church  should 
be  perfectly  blest  and  glorified  before  the 


THE   REUNION.  119 

rest ;  for  all  must  be  raised  up  together,  all 
caught  up  together,  all  crowned  together, 
seeing  they  are  one  body, — one  bride.* 
He  points  to  the  day  of  the  Lord  as  the 
day  of  our  common  introduction  into  the 
inheritance, — the  day  of  our  common  re- 
entrance  into  Eden, — the  day  when,  as  one 
vast  multitude  of  all  kindreds,  we  shall 
enter  in  through  the  gates  into  the  city  ; — 
the  day  of  our  common  crowning,  our  com- 
mon triumph.  For  it  is  to  be  one  crowning, 
one  enthroning,  one  festival,  one  triumph, 
one  entrance  for  the  w^hole  church,  from 
the  beginning.  The  members  are  not 
crowned  alone,  nor  in  fragments,  nor  in 
sections ;  but  in  one  glorious  hour  they  re- 
ceive their  everlasting  crowns,  and  take 
their  seats,  side  by  side,  with  their  Lord, 

*  The  words,  "  God  having  provided  the  better  thing 
for  us,"  form  a  parenthesis,  and  are  thrown  in  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  that  the  "  good  things  to  some," 
that  is,  the  inheritance,  belong  to  us,  as  much  as  to  the 
ancient  saints,  y^ho  got  the  promise. 


120  THE   REUNION. 

and  with  each  other,  in  simultaneous  glad- 
ness, upon  the  long-expected  tlirone. 

The  preparations  for  this  union  have 
long  been  making.  They  began  with  us 
individually,  when  first  the  scattered  frag- 
ments of  our  souls  were  brought  together 
by  the  Holy  Ghc.st,  at  our  conversion.  Be- 
fore that,  our  "  hearts  were  divided  ;"  and 
this  was  our  special  sin.  (Hos.  x.  2.)  But 
then  they  "  were  united," — at  least  in  some 
measure,  though  still  calling  for  the  un- 
ceasing prayer,  "Unite  my  heart  to  fear 
thy  name."  (Psa.  Ixxxvi.  11.)*  It  was 
first  the  inner  man  that  came  under  the 
power  of  sin  and  was  broken  into  parts ; 
then  the  outer  man  followed.     Both  were 

*  The  peader  will  call  to  mind  Augustine's  remark- 
able statement  to  this  effect,  concerning  himseli^  though 
he  does  not  refer  to  either  of  the  above  passages. 
Speaking  of  God  as  his  delight,  "  dulcedo  non  fallax, 
dulcedo  felix  et  secura,"  he  adds,  *'  colligens  me  a  dis. 
persione  in  qua  frustratim  discissus  sum ;  dum  ab  uno 
te  aversis,  in  multa  evanui." — Confessions,  Book  II 
chap.  1.  §  1. 


THE  EEUNION.  121 

created  whole  in  every  sense  of  that  word, 
and  both  have  ceased  to  be  whole  in  any 
sense  of  it.  When  restoration  begins,  it 
begins  with  the  reunion  of  the  inner 
man,  and  in  the  resurrection  passes  on  to 
the  outer,  bringing  together  the  two  re- 
stored parts.  It  was  the  individual  that 
first  was  subjected  to  sin,  and  then  the 
7nass.  So  it  is  the  individual  that  is  first 
restored.  And  this  is  the  process  that  U 
now  going  oh  under  the  almighty,  vivify- 
ing, uniting  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
But  the  reunion  is  not  complete  till  one- 
ness is  brought  back  to  the  mass,  to  the 
body, — till  all  those  members  that  have 
been  singly  restored,  be  brought  together, 
and  so  the  body  made  ichole. 

It  is  for  this  we  wait  until  the  Lord 
come.  For  as  it  was  the  first  Adam  that 
broke  creation  into  fragments,  so  it  is  the 
second  Adam  that  is  to  restore  creation  in 
all  its  parts  and  regions,  and  make  it  one 
again.    The  good  and   the   evil  then  are 

M 


122  THE  REUNION. 

parted  for  ever,  but  the  good  and  tlie  good 
are  brought  into  perfect  oneness, — a  oneness 
so  complete,  so  abiding,  as  more  than  to 
compensate  for  brokenness  and  separation 
here. 

The  soul  and  the  body  come  together  and 
form  one  glorified  man.  The  ten  thousand 
members  of  the  church  come  together  and 
form  one  glorified  church.  The  scattered 
stones  come  together  and  form  one  living 
temple.  The  bride  and  the  Bridegroom 
meet.  Here  it  has  been  one  Lord,  one 
faith,  one  baptism;  there  it  shall  be  one 
body,  one  bride,  one  vine,  one  temple,  one 
family,  one  city,  one  kingdom. 

The  broken  fruitfulness,  the  fitful  in- 
constancy, of  the  cursed  earth  shall  pass 
into  the  unbroken  beauty  of  the  new  crea- 
tion. The  discord  of  the  troubled  ele- 
ments-shall be  laid,  and  harmony  return. 
The  warring  animals  shall  lie  down  in 
peace. 

Then   shall    heaven  and  earth  come  to- 


THE   REUNION.  123 

gether  into  one.  That  which  we  call  dis- 
tance is  annihilated,  and  the  curtain  drawn 
by  sin  is  withdrawn  from  between  the  upper 
and  the  lower  glory,  and  the  fields  of  a 
paradise  that  was  never  lost  are  brought 
into  happy  neighborhood  with  the  fields  of 
paradise  regained;  God's  purpose  develop- 
ing itself  in  the  oneness  of  a  two-fold  glory, 
— the  rulers  and  the  ruled, — the  risen  and 
the  unrisen,  the  celestial  and  the  terrestrial, 
— the  glory  that  is  in  the  heaven  above, 
the  glory  that  is  in  the  earth  beneath  ;  for 
"there  are  celestial  bodies  and  bodies 
terrestrial,  but  the  glory  of  the  celestial 
is  one,  and  the  glory  of  the  terrestrial  is 
another." 

Such  scenes  we  need  to  dwell  upon,  that 
as  our  tribulations  abound,  so  also  our  con- 
solations may  abound.  Our  wounds  hero 
are  long  in  healing.  Bereavements  keep 
the  heart  long  bleeding.  Melancthon,  with 
a  tender  simplicity  so  like  himself,  refers 
to  his  feelings  when  his  child  was  taken 
m2 


124  THE  EEUNION. 

from  Lim  by  death.  He  wept  as  he  re- 
called  the  past.  It  pierced  his  soul  to  re- 
member the  time,  when  once,  as  he  sat 
weeping,  his  little  one  with  its  little  napkin 
wiped  the  tears  from  his  cheeks.* 

Recollections  like  these  haunt  us  through 
life,  ever  and  anon  newly  brought  up  by 
passing  scenes.  Some  summer  morning's 
sun  recalls,  with  stinging  freshness,  the 
hour  when  that  same  sun  streamed  in 
through  our  window  upon  a  dying  infant's 
cradle,  as  if  to  bring  out  all  the  beauty  of 
the  parting  smile,  and  engrave  it  upon  our 
hearts  for  ever.  Or  is  it  a  funeral  scene 
that  comes  up  to  memory, — a  funeral  scene 
that  had  but  a  few  days  before  been  a  bridal 
one, — and  never  on  earth  can  we  forget 
the  outburst  of  our  grief,  when  we  saw  the 
bridal  flowers  laid  upon  the  new-made 
tomb.  Or  some  Avintry  noon  r3calls  the 
time  and  the  scene  when  we  laid  a  parent's 

*  Memini  cum  infantula  mihi  lachrymas  a  genia 
detergeret  suo  indusiolo,  quo  erat  induta  maue ;  hie 
gestus  penetravit  in  amimum  meum. 


THE  EEUNION.  125 

dust  within  its  resting-place,  and  left  it  to 
sleep  in  winter's  grave  of  snows.  These 
memories  haunt  us,  pierce  us,  and  make  us 
feel  what  a  desolate  place  this  is,  and  what 
an  infinitely  desirable  thing  it  would  be  to 
meet  these  lost  ones  again,  where  the  meet- 
ing: shall  be  eternal. 

Hence  the  tidings  of  this  reunion  in  the 
many  mansions  are  like  home-greetings. 
They  relieve  the  smitten  heart.  They  bid 
us.  be  of  good  cheer,  for  the  separation  is 
but  brief,  and  the  meetmg  to  which  we 
look  forward  will  be  the  happiest  ever  en- 
joyed. The  time  of  sorrowful  recollections 
will  soon  pass,  and  no  remembrance  remain 
but  that  which  will  make  our  joy  to  over- 
flow. 

Every  thing  connected  with  this  re- 
union is  fitted  to  enhance  its  blessedness. 
To  meet  again  any  where,  or  any  how,  or 
at  any  time  would  be  blessed  ;  how  much 
more  at  such  a  time,  in  such  circumstances, 
and  in  such  a  home !  The  dark  past  liea 
m3 


126  THE   REUNION. 

behind  us  like  a  prison  from  wli  ich  we  have 
come  forth,  or  like  a  wreck  from  which  we 
have  escaped  in  safety  and  landed  in  a 
quiet  haven.  We  meet  where  separation 
is  an  impossibility,  where  distance  no 
more  tries  fidelity,  or  pains  the  spirit,  or 
mars  the  joy  of  loving.  We  meet  in  a 
kingdom.  We  meet  at  a  marriage-table. 
We  meet  in  the  "  prepared  city,"  the  New 
Jerusalem.  We  meet  under  the  shadow  of 
the  tree  of  life,  and  on  the  banks  of  the 
river  of  life.  We  meet  to  keep  festival  and 
sing  the  songs  of  triumph.  It  was  blessed 
to  meet  here  for  a  day  ;  how  much  more  to 
meet  in  the  kingdom  for  ever!  It  was 
blessed  to  meet,  even  with  parting  full  in 
view;  how  much  more  so  when  no  such 
cloud  overhangs  our  future !  It  was  Messed 
to  meet  in  the  wilderness  and  the  land  of 
graves  ;  how  much  more  in  paradise,  and  in 
the  land  where  death  enters  not !  It  was 
blessed  to  meet  "in  the  night," — though 
chill  and   dark;   how  much  more   in  the 


THE  EEUNION.  127 

morning,  when  light  has  risen,  and  the 
troubled  sky  is  cleared,  and  joy  is  spreading 
itself  around  us  like  a  new  atmosphere, 
from  which  every  element  of  soitosv  haa 
disappeared. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   PRESENCE   OF   THE  LORD. 

To  love  in  absence,  though  with  the 
knowledge  of  being  beloved,  and  with  the 
certainty  of  meeting  ere  long,  is  but  a  min- 
gled joy.  It  contents  us  in  the  room  of 
something  better  and  more  blessed,  but  it 
lacks  that  which  true  love  longs  for,  the 
presence  of  the  beloved  one.  That  pre- 
sence fills  up  the  joy  and  turns  every  shadow 
into  brightness. 

Especially  when  this  time  of  absence  is 
a  time  of  weakness  and  suffering,  and  en- 
durance of  wrong;  when  dangers  come 
thickly  around,  and  enemies  spare  not,  and 
advantage  is  taken  by  the  strong  to  vex  or 
injure  the  defenceless.     Then  love  in  ab- 


THB  PRESENCE  OF  THE  LORD.     129 

sence,  though  felt  to  be  a  sure  consolation, 
is  found  to  be  insufficient,  and  the  heart 
cheers  itself  with  the  thought  that  the  in- 
terval of  loneliness  is  brief,  and  that  the 
days  of  separation  are  fast  running  out. 

It  is  with  such  feelings  that  we  look  for- 
ward to  our  meeting  with  Him  "  whom 
having  not  seen  we  love,"  and  anticipate 
the  joy  of  being  for  ever  "  with  the  Lord." 
That  day  of  meeting  has  in  it  enough  of 
gladness  to  make  up  for  all  the  past.  And 
then  it  is  eterxal.  It  is  not  meeting  to- 
day, and  parting  to-morrow ;  it  is  meeting 
once  and  for  ever.  To  see  him  face  to  face, 
even  for  a  day,  how  blessed !  To  be  "  with 
him"  for  a  life-time,  or  an  age,  even  though 
with  intervals  of  absence  between,  how 
gladdening !  But  to  be  ^^^th  him  for  ever, 
— or  always^  as  it  stands  in  the  original, — 
this  surely  is  the  very  filling  up  of  all  our 

joy- 
Has  not  the  Lord,  however,  been  always 

with  us  ?    Has  he  not  said,  "  Lo,  I  am  with 


130  THE   PKESENCE 

you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world?"  Yea.  Xor  ought  the  church  to 
undervalue  this  nearness,  this  fellowship. 
It  is  no  shadow  or  fancy ;  it  is  reality.  It 
is  that  same  reality  to  which  the  Lord  re- 
ferred when  he  said,  "He  that  loveth  me 
shall  be  loved  of  my  Father;  and  I  will 
love  him,  and  will  manifest  myself  to  him" 
(John  xiv.  21 )  ;  or,  as  the  old  versions  have 
it,  "  will  show  mine  own  self  to  him."  For 
when  Jude  put  the  question,  "  Lord,  how 
is  it  that  thou  wilt  manifest  thyself  to 
us  and  not  unto  the  world  ?"  that  is,  "  how 
shall  it  be  that  the  world  shall  not  see  thee, 
and  yet  we  who  are.  living  in  the  world 
shall  see  thee  ?  how  is  it  that  we  shall  have 
thy  presence,  and  yet  the  world  have  it 
not?"  "Jesus  answered  and  said  unto 
bun.  If  a  man  love  me  he  will  keep  my 
words ;  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and 
we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode 
with  him." 

So   that   thus  we    have    had    the   Lord 


OP   THE   LORD.  131 

always  with  us,  nay,  making  his  abode  with 
us.  It  was  when  first  we  gave  credit  to  the 
Divine  testimony  concerning  the  free  love 
of  God,  in  the  gift  of  his  Son,  that  we  drew 
nigrh  to  him  and  he  to  us.  It  was  then 
that  he  came  in  unto  us,  and  took  up  his 
abode  with  us.  It  was  when  we  heard  his 
voice  and  opened  the  door,  that  he  came  in 
to  sup  w^ith  us.  And  it  is  this  conscious 
presence, — this  presence  which  faith  real- 
izes,— that  cheers  us  amid  tribulation  here. 
In  the  furnace  we  have  one  like  the  Son 
of  man  to  keep  us  company,  and  to  prevent 
the  flame  from  kindling  upon  us. 

But  this  is,  after  all,  incomplete.  It  is 
the  enjoyment  of  as  much  fellowship  as 
can  be  tasted  in  absence,  but  it  is  no  more. 
Nor  is  it  intended  to  supersede  something 
nearer  and  more  complete, — far  less  to 
make  us  content  with  absence.  Nay,  its 
tendency  is  to  make  us  less  and  less  satis- 
fied with  absence.  It  gives  us  such  a 
relish    for  intercourse,   that  we    long    for 


132  THE  PRESENCE 

communion  mere  unhindered, — eye  to  eye 
and  face  to  face.  This  closer  intercourse, 
this  actual  vision,  this  bodily  nearness,  we 
are  yet  to  enjoy.  The  hope  given  us  is  to 
be  "  with  the  Lord," — with  him  in  a  way 
such  as  we  have  never  been. 

Let  no  one  despise  this  nearness,  nor 
speak  evil  of  it,  as  if  it  were  material  and 
carnal.  Many  speak  as  if  their  bodies  were 
a  curse, — as  if  matter  were  some  piece  of 
mis-creation  to  which  we  had  unnaturally 
and  unhappily  been  fastened.  And  others 
tell  us  that  actual  intercourse,  such  as  we 
refer  to,  the  intercourse  of  vision  and  voice, 
is  a  poor  thing,  not  to  be  named  beside  the 
other,  which  is,  as  they  conceive,  the  deeper 
and  the  truer. 

But  is  it  so  ?  Is  matter  so  despicable  ? 
Are  our  bodies  such  hinderances  to  true 
fellowship?  Is  the  eye  nothing,  the  ear 
nothing,  the  smile  nothing,  the  voice  no- 
thing, the  embrace  nothing,  the  clasping 
of  the  hand  nothing?      Is  personal  com* 


OP  THE  LORD.  133 

munion  a  hinJerance  to  earthly  friendships  ? 
Can  the  friend  enjoy  the  friend  as  well  afar 
off  as  near  ?  Is  it  no  matter  to  the  wife 
though  her  husband  be  unseen  and  distant  ? 
Granting  that  we  can  still  love  and  receive 
love  in  return,  is  distance  no  barrier,  does 
absence  make  no  blank  ?  Do  we  slight 
bodily  presence,  visible  intercourse,  as 
worthless,  almost  undesirable?  Is  not  the 
reverse  one  of  the  most  deep-seated  feelings 
of  our  nature  ?  And  is  it  not  to  this  deep- 
seated  feeling  that  the  incarnation  appeals  ? 
Is  that  incarnation  useless,  save  as  furnish- 
ing a  victim  for  the  altar, — and  pro\Tiding 
blood  for  the  cleansing  of  the  worshipper  ? 
No.  The  incarnation  brings  God  nigh  to 
ns  in  a  way  such  as  could  not  have  been 
done  by  any  other  means.  He  became  bone 
of  our  bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh,  that  we 
might  have  a  being  like  ourselves  to  com- 
mune with,  to  love,  to  lean  upon. 

In  that  day  when  we    shall    be   "with 

N 


184  THE   PRESENCE 

the  Lord,"  we  shall  know  to  the  fall  the 
design  of  God  in  the  incarnation  of  hia 
Son,  and  taste  the  blessedness  of  seeing  him 
as  he  is. 

The  time  of  this  meeting  is  his  coming ; 
not  till  then.  Before  that  there  is  distance 
and  imperfection.  I  know  that  m  the 
disembodied  state  there  will  be  greater 
nearness  and  fuller  enjoyment  than  now. 
And  this  the  apostle  longed  for  when  he 
had  the  "desire  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ,  which  is  far  better."  Even  before 
the  resurrection  there  is  a  "being  with 
Christ,"  more  satisfying  than  what  we  enjoy 
here  ;  a  "  being,  with  Christ"  which  is 
truly  "  far  better."  Nor  would  I  disparage 
this  blessedness.  But  still  this  is  not  to  be 
compared  with  resurrection-nearness,  and 
resurrection-fellowship,  when,  in  a  way  up 
till  that  time  unknown,  we  shall  be  intro- 
duced into  the  very  presence  of  the  King, 
all  distance  annihilated,  all  fellowship  com* 


OF  THE  LOBD.  135 

pleted,  all  joy  consummated,  all  coldness 
done  away,  all  shadows  dissipated,  and  "  so 
we  shall  ever  be  with  the  Lord." 

But,  for  the  better  understanding  of  this 
subject,  let  us  look  to  the  way  in  which  the 
apostle  handles  it  in  administering  comfort 
to  the  Thessalonian  church,  some  of  whom 
had  been  giving  way  to  immoderate  grief 
for  the  dead. 

The  grief  of  the  heathen  w^as  immoderate, 
and  their  expressions  of  it  equally  so.  No 
wonder.  Their  hearts  beat  with  as  firm  a 
pulse  as  ours,  and  natural  affection  was  as 
strong  with  them  as  with  us.  The  husband 
mourned  the  wife,  the  wife  the  husband; 
the  parent  mourned  the  child,  the  child 
the  parent ;  friends  wept  over  the  grave  of 
friends.  The  breaking  of  these  ties  was 
bitter ;  and  the  special  sting  was,  that  they 
had  no  hope  of  reunion.  Death  to  them 
was  a  parting  for  ever;  not  as  when  one 
parts  in  the  morning  to  meet  at  even,  or  as 
when  one  parts  this  year  to  meet  a  few 
n  2 


136  THE  PRESENCE 

years  hence.  It  was  a  hopeless  separation. 
At  the  best  it  was  a  vague  uncertainty,  to 
which  deep  grief  gives  no  heed  ;  more  com- 
monly it  was  despair.  Their  sorrow  was 
desperate,  their  wound  incurable. 

The  Thessalonian  saints  were  sorrowing 
as  those  that  had  no  hope,  as  if  they  had 
buried  their  beloved  brethren  in  an  eternal 
tomb.  For  this  the  apostle  reproves  them. 
He  points  out  the  hope, — a  sure  hope,  a 
blessed  hope,  a  hope  fitted  to  bring  true 
comfort.  "Them  that  slce^^  in  Jesus  will 
God  bring  with  him."  They  are  not  lost ; 
they  have  only  been  laid  to  sleep  by  Jesus, 
and  he  will  awake  them  when  he  returns,  and 
bring  them  up  out  of  their  tombs.  Their 
departure  cannot  be  called  dying  ;  it  is  only 
sleeping.  It  has  nothing  of  the  despair  of 
death  about  it.  Death  has  lost  its  sting ;  the 
shroud  its  gloom  ;  the  grave  its  terrors.  It 
is  an  end  of  pain  ;  it  is  a  ceasing  from  toil. 
"  Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord, 
for  they  rest  ftom  their  labours." 


OF  THE   LOKD.  13/ 

But  the  apostle  looks  beyond  the  rest- 
ing-place.     "Thy  brother  shall  rise  agam." 
God  himself  will  uncover  their  tomb  and 
call  them  up,  at  the  return  of  Him  who  is 
the  resurrection  and  the  life.    And  this,  says 
he,  "  we  say  unto  you  by  the  word  of  the 
Lord."     He  gives  this  consolation  to  them 
as  a  certainty;  having  in  it  nothing  vague 
or  doubtful ;  a  certainty  proclaimed  by  him- 
self and  resting  on  the  Lord's  own  words  to 
his  disciples  ere  he  left  the  earth,  regarding 
his  advent,  and  the  gathering  of  his  elect 
to  him. 

The  Lord  is  to  come !  This  is  the  cer- 
tainty. The  Lord  is  to  come !  And  in  that 
coming  are  wrapt  up  all  the  hopes  of  his 
saints. 

Of  these  saints  there  will  be  two  classes 
when  he  comes.  (1.)  Those  that  are  alive 
and  remain;  the  last  generation  of  the 
church.  For,  says  the  apostle  elsewhere, 
"  We  shall  not  all  sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be 
changed."  (1  Cor.  xv.  51.)  (2.)  Those 
n3 


138  THE   PRESENCE 

thxit  have  fallen  asleep  ;  these  forming  the 

larger  number,  doubtless;  for  the  sleeping 

ones  of  all  ages  shall  be  thtire      It  might  be 

supposed  that  the  living  ones  would  have 

the  advantage,  as  being  alive  when  the  Lord 

arrives.     But,  no.     It  is  not  so.     They  may 

have  some  advantages.     They  never  taste 

death.      They  are    like  Enoch  and  Elijah 

They  know  not  the    grave.     They  see  no 

corruption.     In  their  case  soul  and  body  are 

never  separated.     They  do   not  meet  the 

king  of  terrors,  nor  fall  undei'  his  power.* 

*  Thus  Richard  Baxter  wrote :  "Would  it  not  re>- 
joice  your  hearts  if  you  were  sure  to  live  to  see  the 
coming  of  the  Lord,  and  to  see  his  glorious  appearing 
and  retmue  ?  If  you  were  not  to  die,  but  to  be  caught 
up  thus  to  meet  the  Lord,  would  you  be  averse  to  this  ? 
"Would  it  not  be  the  greatest  joy  that  you  could  desire  ? 
For  my  own  part,  I  must  confess  to  you  that  death,  aa 
death,  appeareth  to  me  aa  an  enemy,  and  my  nature 
doth  abhor  and  fear  it.  But  the  thoughts  of  the  commg 
of  the  Lord  are  most  sweet  and  joyful  to  me,  so  that  if 
I  were  but  sure  that  I  should  live  to  see  it,  and  that  the 
trumpet  should  sound,  and  the  dead  should  rise,  and 
the  Lord  appear,  before  the  period  of  my  ago,  it  would 
be  the  joyfullest  tidings  to  me  in  the  world.  Oh  that  I 
might  see  his  kingdom  come  1   It  is  the  character  of  his 


OF   THE   LORD.  139 

These  are  privileges ;  and  yet  it  might  be 
said,  on  the  other  hand,  that  these  saints  do 
not  taste  the  gladness  of  resurrection  ;  that 
they  are  not  conformed  to  their  Lord  in 
this,  that  he  died  and  rose.  Still  the  end 
in  both  cases  is  the  same, — the  one  shall 
have  no  advantage,  no  pre-eminence  over 
the  other.  Both  are  "presented  faultless 
before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with 
exceeding  joy  ;"  both  equally  faultkss^ 
though    each    has    undergone    a    different 

samts  to  love  his  appearing  and  to  look  for  that  blessed 
hope;  'The  Spirit  and  the  bride  say  Come;  even  so, 
oome,  Lord  Jesus.'  Come  quickl}-  is  the  voice  of  faith, 
and  hope,  arid  love.  But  I  find  not  that  his  servants 
are  thus  characterized  by  their  desire  to  die.  It  is 
therefore  the  presence  of  their  Lord  that  they  desire, 
but  it  is  death  that  they  abhor ;  and  therefore,  though 
they  can  submit  to  death,  it  is  the  coming  of  Christ 
that  they  love  and  long  for.  If  death  be  the  last  enemy 
to  be  destroyed  at  the  resurrection,  we  may  learn  how 
earnestly  behevers  should  long  and  pray  for  the  second 
coming  of  Christ,  when  this  full  and  final  conquest 
shall  be  made.  There  is  something  in  death  that  ia 
penal,  even  to  believers ;  but  in  the  coming  of  Christ 
and  their  resurrection  there  is  n')thing  tut  glorifying 
grace."   Workn^  vc!.  xvii,  p.  555— i  590. 


140  THE   PRESENCE 

process  for  the  accomplishing  of  this.  Thus, 
the  one  being  changed  and  the  other 
raised,  they  are  formed  into  one  company, 
marshalled  into  one  mighty  army,  and  then 
caught  up  into  the  clouds  to  meet  the  Lord 
in  the  air. 

The  particulars  of  this  coming,  in  so  far 
as  the  apostle  gives  them,  let  us  briefly 
look  into.  The  Lord  himself  shall  descend 
from  heaven.  The  same  Jesus  that  as- 
cended; he  who  loved  us  and  washed  us 
fi-om  our  sins  in  his  own  blood  ;  he — his  own 
self — shall  come  —  come  in  like  manner 
as  he  was  seen  go.  into  heaven.  With  a 
shout.  This  is  the  shout  of  a  monarch's 
retinue,  the  shout  of  a  great  army.  Just 
as  God  is  said  to  have  gone  up  with  shouts, 
so  is  he  to  return ;  return  with  the  shout 
of  the  conqueror,  the  shout  of  triumph. 
The  voice  of  the  archangel,  A  solitary 
voice  is  then  heard  making  some  mighty 
announcement,  such  as  that  of  the  angel 
standing  upon  sea  and  earth,  and  proclaim- 


OF   THE   LURD.  I'^i 

Jng  that  there  should  be  time   no  longer 
(Rev.'X.  6);  or  of  that  other  angel,  with 
whose  glory  the  earth  was  lightened,  cry- 
ing with   a  loud   voice,  Babylon   is  fallen 
(Rev.   xviii.   2)  ;    or   of  that   other   angel, 
who  cried  with  a  loud  voice  to  all  the  fowls 
of  heaven,  "Come,  gather  yourselves  unto 
the  supper  of  the  great  God."  (Rev.  xix. 
17.)     The  trump  of  God.    It  is  elsewhere 
called  "the  last  trump."  (1  Cor.  xv.  52.) 
It  is  God's  own  trumpet,  the  trumpet  that 
awakes  the  dead ;  not  a  voice  merely,— as 
if  that  were  too  feeble  for  such  a  purpose, 
nor  a  common  trumpet,  but  the  trump  of 
God,  one   that   can  pierce  the  grave  and 
awake  the  dead. 

These  are  the  steps  and  the  accompani- 
ments of  the  advent.  There  is  first  the 
shout  of  the  angelic  host,  as  the  Rede3mer 
leaves  his  seat  above  to  take  possession  of 
his  kingdom  here.  This  shout  is  continued 
as  he  descends.  Then,  as  he  approaches 
nearer,  the  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host 


242  THE  PRESia^^OE 

is .  silent,  and  a  solitary  voice  is  heard,  tho 
voice  of  the  archangel  uttering  God's  mes* 
sage;  then  comes  the  trumpet  that  calls 
forth  the  sleeping  just.  They  obey  the 
call.  They  arise.  No  holy  dust  remains 
behind.  They  put  on  immortality.  Then, 
joined  by  the  transfigured  and  glorified 
living,  they  hasten  upwards  to  the  embrace 
of  their  beloved  Lord. 

It  is  into  "the  clouds,"  or  "  cloud,"  that 
they  are  caught  up ;  that  cloud,  or  clouds, 
Tvhich  in  all  likelihood  rested  above  Eden, 
making  it  the  place  of  "the  presence  of 
the  Lord"  (Gen.  iii.  8;  iv.  14,  16);  which 
appeared  to  Moses  at  the  bush ;  which  led 
Israel  over  the  Red  Sea  and  through  the 
desert;  which  covered  Sinai;  which  dwelt 
in  the  tabernacle  and  in  the  temple  ;  which 
Isaiah  saw  ;  Avhieh  Ezekiel  described  ; 
which  shone  down  upon  the  Son  of  God 
at  his  baptism  and  transfiguration;  which 
received  him  out  of  sight  at  his  ascension ; 
which   Stephen  saw  when    breathing    out 


OP   THE   LORD.  143 

his  soul;  which  smote  Saul  to  the  ground 
on  his  way  to  Damascus ;  which,  last  of  all, 
appeared  to  John  in  Patmos;  and  which 
we  know  shall  yet  re-appear  in  the  latter 
day.  Into  this  cloud  of  the  Divine  presence, 
this  symbol  of  the  excellent  glory,  Jeho- 
vah's tent  or  dwelling-place,  the  ark  of 
our  safety  against  the  flood  of  fire,  shall 
the  sdnts  be  caught  up  when  the  Lord  ap- 
pears, and  the  voice  is  heard  from  heaven, 
*'  Awake  and  sing^  ye  that  dwell  in  dust :" 
and  as  it  was  said  in  Israel,  "  the  song  of 
the  Lord  began  with  trumpets"  (2  Chron. 
xxix.  27),  even  so  w^th  the  trump  of  God 
shall  our  resurrection-song  begin. 

Thus  with  songs  shall  we  go  up  on  high ; 
our  songs  in  the  night  being  exchanged 
for  the  songs  of  the  morning.  They  shall 
be  "  songs  of  deliverance,"  with  which  we 
shall  then  be  "compassed  about"  in  that 
day  when  we  get  up  into  our  "hiding- 
place"  to  be  "preserved  from  trouble" 
(Psa.  xxxii.  7) ;  when  to  "  enter  into  our 


144  THE  PRESENCE 

chambers"  and  "  shut  our  doors  about 
us,"  until  "the  indignation  be  overpast." 
(Isa.  xxviii.  20.)  No  longer  in  a  strange 
land  or  by  the  rivers  of  Babylon  shall  we 
sing  our  songs;  no  longer  in  "the  house 
of  our  pilgrimage"  or  in  the  wilderness 
shall  we  make  melody ;  but  in  the  King's 
own  presence,  in  the  great  congregation. 
in  the  New  Jerusalem  which  cometh  down 
out  of  heaven  from  God.  Then  "  standing 
upon  the  sea  of  glass,"  and  beholding  the 
"judgments  of  God  made  manifest"  (Rev. 
XV.  2 — 4),  as  Israel  did  when  Pharaoh,  and 
his  chariots  sank  like  lead  in  the  mighty 
waters,  we  sing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the 
song  of  the  Lamb. 

Thus  "  caught  up"  into  the  cloud,  we 
meet  the  Lord  "in  the  air,"  as  those  do 
who  go  forth  to  meet  a  friend  already  on 
his  way  to  them  (Acts  xxviii.  15) ;  we  meet 
him  in  order  that,  being  there  acquitted, 
acknowledged  and  confessed  by  him  be- 
fore his  Father  and  before  the  angels,  we 


OF    THE    LORD.  145 

may  form  his  retinue,  and  come  w  ith  him  to 
execute  vengeance,  to  judge  the  world,  to 
share  his  triumphs,  to  reign  ',Yith  him  in  his 
glorious  kingdom.  (Zech.  xiv.  5  ;  1  Thess. 
iii.  13;   Jude  14  ;  Rev.  ii.  26  ;  iii.  21.) 

Thus  ^'  meeting  the  Lord,"  we  are  to  be 
"  ever  with  him."  He  with  us  and  we 
with  him  for  ever.  "  So  shall  we  ever  be 
with  the  Lord ; "  that  is,  "  as  we  then  shall 
meet,  .so  we  shall  never  part ; "  as  is  our 
meeting,  so  is  our  eternal  communion,  our 
continuance  in  the  presence  of  his  glory. 
We  shall  see  him  face  to  face,  and  his 
name  shall  be  in  our  foreheads.  Sitting 
upon  tlie  same  throne,  dwelling  under  the 
same  roof,  hearing  his  voice,  having  free 
access  to  him  at  all  times,  doing  his  will, 
going  forth  on  his  errands, — this  shall  be 
the  joy  of  our  eternity.  No  distance  ;  that 
is  annihilated.  No  estrangement ;  that  is 
among  the  things  that  are  absolutely  im- 
possible. No  cloud  between ;  that  is  swept 
ftway  and  cannot  re-appear.  No  coldness; 
o 


J  46  THE   PRESENCE 

for  love  is  always  full.  No  interruption  ; 
for  who  can  come  between  the  Bridegroom 
and  the  bride  ?  No  change  ;  for  he  makes 
us  like  himself,  without  variableness.  No 
parting ;  for  we  have  reached  our  home  to 
go  out  no  more.  No  end ;  for  the  dura- 
tion of  our  fellowship  is  the  life  of  the 
Ancient  of  days,  of  Him  who  is  "  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting." 

"  With  the  Lord  ! "  It  would  be  much 
to  be  with  Enoch,  or  with  Abraham,  or 
with  Moses,  or  with  Elijah,  or  with  Paul ; 
much  to  share  their  fellowship,  to  have 
converse  with  them  on  the  things  of  God 
and  the  story  of  their  own  wondrous  lives ; 
how  much  more  to  be  "  with  the  Lord  ! " 
To  be  like  Peter  at  his  side,  like  Mary  at 
his  feet,  like  John  in  his  bosom.  To  have 
met  him  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  or  by 
the  sea  of  Galilee,  or  at  Jacob's  well ;  to 
have  heard  him  name  your  name  and 
salute  you,  as  he  passed,  with  the  wish  of 
*'  peace ; "  to  have  dwelt  in  the  next  house 


162  '  THE    KINGDOM. 

world.  The  thought  that  "  the  morning  " 
is  to  bring  in  that  righteous  kingdom,  com- 
forts us  amid  the  clouds  and  thick  darkness 
of  this  night  of  weeping. 

5.  It  is  a  kingdom  of  peace.  War  has 
by  that  time  run  its  course ;  its  spears  are 
broken  and  turned  to  ploughshares;  strife 
and  hatred  have  fled.  The  storm  has  be- 
come a  calm,  and  the  vexed  sea  is  still. 
Holy  tranquillity  breathes  over  earth.  "  The 
mountains  bring  feace  to  the  people,  and 
the  little  hills,  by  righteousness; — there 
shall  be  abundance  of  peace  so  long  as  the 
moon  endureth."  (^Psa.  Ixxii.  3— 7.)  "Up- 
on David,  and  upon  his  seed,  and  upon  his 
house,  and  upon  his  throne,  there  shall  be 
peace  for  ever  from  the  Lord."  (1  Kings 
ii.  33.)  Far  more  truly  than  in  the  days  of 
Solomon  there  shall  be  '^  peace  on  all  sides 
round  about "  (1  Kings  iv.  24) ;  yea,  the 
Lord  God  will  give  rest  on  every  side,  so 
that  there  shall  be  "  neither  adversary  nor 
evil  occurrent."    (1  Kings   v.  4.)    Every 


148  THE   PRESENCE 

thou  hast  ravished  my  heart,  my  sister,  my 
spouse ;  ihou  hast  ravished  my  heart  with 
one  of  tliine  eyes,  with  one  turn  of  thy 
neck.  H3W  fair  is  thy  love,  my  sister,  my 
spouse  !  how  much  better  is  thy  love  than 
wine!"  (Sol.  Song  iv.  7—10.) 

"  Ever  wifh  the  Lord  ! "  This  soothes 
all  sorrow  and  sums  up  all  joy.  If  even 
here  we  can  saj  so  gladly  and  so  surely, 
"  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death,  nor 
life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor 
powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to 
come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord,"  how  much  more  gladly  and 
surely  shall  we  be  able  to  say  it  then ! 

For  ever  to  behold  him  shine, 
For  evermore  to  call  him  mine  ! 

This  is  what  we  look  for  ;  this  is  our 
watchword  and  our  song  even  in  the  day  of 
absence  and  sorrow  ;  and  it  is  this  that 
makes   the  expected   morning  so  truly  a 


OP   THE-  LORD.  149 

morning  of  joy.  "  As  for  me,  I  will  be- 
hold thy  face  in  righteousness  :  I  shall  be 
satisfied,  when  I  awake,  with  thy  likeness.'* 
(Psa.  xvii.  15.)* 

*  "Hasten,  O  my  Saviour,  the  time  of  thy  return; 
send  forth  thine  angels,  and  let  that  dreadfu/,  joyful 
trumpet  sound  ;  delay  not,  lest  the  living  give  up  their 
hopes ;■  delay  not,  lest  earth  should  grow  like  hell,  and 
lest  thy  church  by  division  be  crumbled  all  to  dust ; 
delay  not,  lest  the  grave  should  boast  of  victory,  and 
having  learned  rebellion  of  its  guest,  should  plead  pre- 
scription, and  refuse  to  deliver  thee  up  thy  due.  0 
hasten  that  great  resurrection-day,  when  thy  command 
shall  go  forth  and  none  shall  disobey ;  when  the  sea 
and  earth  shall  yield  up  their  hostages,  and  all  that 
sleep  shall  awake,  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  first 
arise  ;  when-  the  seed  that  thou  sowedst  corruptible 
shall  come  forth  incorruptible ;  and  the  graves  that  re- 
ceived but  rottenness,  and  retained  but  dust,  shall  return 
thee  glorious  stars  and  suns.  Return,  O  Lord,  how 
long !  O  let  thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  desolate  bride 
saith,  Come  !  For  thy  Spirit  within  her  saith,  Come  !  The 
whole  creation  saith.  Come,  waiting  to  be  delivered  from 
the  bondage  of  corruption.  Thyself  hath  said,  Surely  I 
come.  Amen ;  even  so,  come.  Lord  Jesus." — Baxteb, 
Works,  vol.  xxiii.  p.  449,  450. 


03 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE    KINGDOM. 


That  to  which  the  "  much  tribulation" 
leads  us,  is  a  kingdom.  (Acts  xiv.  22.)  It 
is  to  this  that  it  ministers  an  **  abundant 
entrance,"  (2  Pet.  i.  11,)  an  entrance  in 
itself  not  joyous  indeed,  but  grievous,  yet 
in  its  issues  glorious. 

Hitherto  it  has  been  midnight  and  the 
wilderness;  ere  long  it  shall  be  morning 
AND  THE  KINGDOM.  For  it  is  "  in  the 
morning  "  that  the  righteous  are  to  "  have 
dominion."  (Psa.  xlix.  14.)  Just  as  the 
night  has  been  the  time  of  down-treading, 
and  "  wearing  out,"  so  the  morning  is  the 
time  of  having  dominion,  the  time  of 
*  bringing  judgment  to  light."  (Zeph.  iii. 


THE    KINGDOM.  151 

6.)  AVhen  "  the  Just  One  shall  rule  over 
men,"  he  shall  be  "  as  the  light  of  the 
morning  when  the  sun  riseth,  a  morning 
without  clouds."  (2  Sam.  xxiii.  3,  4.)  The 
time  when  "  the  Lord  shall  help,"  is  when 
"  the  morning  appeareth "  (Psa.  xlvi.  5, 
margin) ;  at  evening-tide  there  is  trouble, 
but  "  before  the  morning  he  is  not."  (Isa. 
xvii.  14.)  The  reign  of  Antichrist  is  over, 
and  the  reign  of  Christ  begins.  The  king- 
dom of  the  unrighteous  is  broken  to  pieces, 
and  the  kingdom  of  the  righteous  rises  in  its 
stead.  Lucifer,  the  mock  "  light-bringer," 
the  false  "son  of  the  morning,"  vanishes 
from  the  heavens,  and  "  the  true  light,"  the 
"'  bright  and  morning-star,"  takes  his  place 
in  the  firmament,  unclouded  and  unsetting 
in  his  glory.  "  The  kingdom  and  dominion, 
and  the  greatness  of  the  kingdom  under 
the  whole  heaven,  is  given  to  the  people  of 
the  saints  of  the  Most  High."  fDan.  vii. 
27.)  The  church's  weary  burden  is  no 
longer  "  How  long,  O   Lord,"  but  "  The 


152  THE   KINGDOM. 

Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice !  "  (Psa. 
xcvii.  1.)  Her  prayer  "  thy  kingdom  come," 
is  exchanged  for  the  thanksgiving  of  the 
"  great  voices  in  heaven,"  "  The  kingdoms 
of  this  world  are  become  the  kingdoms  of 
our  Lord,  and  of  his  Christ ;  "  "  We  give 
thee  thanks,  O  Lord  God  Almighty,  which 
art,  and  wast,  and  art  to  come,  because 
thou  hast  taken  to  thee  thy  great  power, 
and  hast  reigned  ;"  "  Alleluia,  for  the  Lord 
God  Omnipotent  reigneth.'*  (Rev.  xi.  15; 
xix.  6.) 

That  to  which  we  are  hastening  on  is  not 
merely  an  inheritance,  but  a  royal  inherit- 
ance,— a  kingdom.  That  for  which  we 
suffer  is  a  crown.  "  If  we  suffer,  we  shall 
also  reign  with  him."  As  we  have  been 
truly  fellow-sufferers,  we  shall  be  as  truly 
fellow-reigners.  The  suffering  has  been 
real,  so  shall  the  reigning  be.  This  is  "  the 
recompence  of  reward"  to  which  we  have 
respect  when  we  "  choose  rather  to  suffer 
affliction  with  the  people  of  God,  than  to 


THE   KINGDOM.  1" 

enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season." 
(Heb.  xi.  25.)  This  is  "the  better  and 
the  enduring  substance,"  for  which  ve  ar« 
willing  to  "  endure  the  great  fight  of  afflic- 
tions," (Heb.  X.  32,  34.)  This  is  the  sum- 
Tning  up  of  earth's  toil  and  grief,-the  issue 
of  a  Ufe-time's  conflict  with  weariness,  and 
wrong,  and  sin. 

To  think  of  trial  as  a  preparation  for  the 
kingdom  is  much ;  but  to  look  at  it  as  an 
entrance  into  it  is  more.     At  the  end  of 
time's  dark  avenue    stands   the   mansion- 
house,  the  palace  !    At  the  edge  of  our  de- 
sert-track  lies  the  kingdom!    The  avenue 
may  be  rugged  under  foot,  thorny  on  every 
side,  and  gloomy  over  head;  the  wilder- 
ness may  be  "waste  and  howling;"  yet 
they  are  passages,  -  entrances  ;  they  are 
not  interminable,  and  their  end  is  gladness. 
They  usher  us  into  a  state  which  will,  in  a 
moment,  eiface  the  bitter  past,  so  that  it 
"  shall  not  once  be  remembered  nor  come 
into  mind."     Thus,  though  in  one  aspect 


154  THE   KINGDOM. 

tribulation  seems  a  path  or  gate-way  fenced 
with  the  brier,  and  hard  to  fight  through ; 
yet  in  another  it  is  the  conqueror's  tri- 
umphal arch  under  which  we  pass  into  the 
kingdom ;  so  that  while  passing  through 
we  can  sing  the  song  of  him  who  long  ago 
went  this  way  before  us :  *'  I  reckon  that 
the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that 
shall  be  revealed  in  us."    (Rom.  viii.  18.) 

The  thought  of  the  kingdom  cheers  us, 
and  the  stray  gleams  of  it  which  faith  gives 
us  are  like  the  lattice-lights  of  a  loved 
dwelling,  sparkling  through  the  thicket,  to 
the  weary  eye  of  a  benighted  wanderer. 
Yes,  we  are  heirs  of  nothing  less  than  a 
kingdom,  however  unlike  such  we  may 
seem  at  present,  and  however  ambitious  it 
may  be  reckoned  to  claim  so  much,  and  to 
aspire  so  high.  Robes  of  royalty  shall  soon 
cover  all  our  unseemliness;  and  beneath 
the  glory  of  a  throne  we  shall  bury  all  oui 
poverty,  and  shame,  and  grief. 


THE   KmGDOM.  155 

But  this  is  not  all.  The  varied  excel- 
lences of  that  kingdom,  as  made  known  to 
us  by  prophets  and  apostles,  are  such 
as  specially  to  meet  our  case,  and  con- 
trast with  our  present  condition.  This 
fitness, — this  contrast  make  the  thoughts 
of  the  kingdom  doubly  precious  and  con- 
soling. 

1.  It  is  the  kingdom  of  God.  (1  Cor.  vi. 
9.)  Manx's  kingdoms  have  passed  away, — 
those  kingdoms  under  which  the  saints  of 
God  have  been  trodden  down.  And  now 
all  that  is  man's  is  gone,  and  nothing  re- 
mains but  what  is  God's  !  The  glory  of  the 
kingdom  is  this,  that  it  is  altogether  God's. 
It  must,  then,  be  perfect  and  blessed, — 
wholly  unlike  any  thing  that  these  eyes  of 
ours  have  seen.  If  it  were  but  a  reforma- 
tion of  human  kingdoms,  if  it  were  a  mere 
change  of  dynasty,  the  prospect  of  it  would 
be  but  doubtful  comfort ;  but  it  is  an  en- 
tire passing  away  of  the  old,  and  a  making 
all  things  new.     It  is  the  return  of  God  to 


156  THE   KINGDOM. 

his  own  world ; — and  oh,  what  will  not  that 
return  effect  for  us  !  His  re-enthronement 
is  what  we  desire  ;  for  it  is  this  alone  that 
gives  us  the  assurance  of  perpetuity  and 
stahility,  against  which  no  enemy  shall 
prevail.  It  was  to  that  re -enthronement 
that  Jesus  looked  forward  when  about  to 
ascend  the  cross,  and  of  which  he  spoke 
twice  over  at  the  paschal-table  (Luke  xxii. 
16,  18)  ;  as  if  this^were  "  the  joy  set  before 
him,"  because  of  which  he  "  endured  the 
cross,  despising  the  shame."  (Heb.  xii.  2.) 
It  is  that  re-enthronement  that  we  also 
anticipate  as  the  day  of  our  triumph,  for 
then  shall  we  '"  shine  as  the  sun  in  the 
kingdom  of  our  Father."  (Matt.  xiii.  43.) 
2.  It  is  the  kingdom  of  CItrist.  (Col.  i. 
13.)  This  assures  that  we  shall  feel  at 
home  there.  It  is  no  stranger  who  is  to 
seat  us  on  the  throne  beside  him ;  but  our 
nearest  of  kin, — the  Man  who  died  for  us. 
It  is  the  pierced  hands  that  wield  the  scep- 
tre.    This  meets   our  case.     For  we   are 


THE   KINGDOM.  157 

strangers  here,  specially  feeling  not  at 
home  in  the  courts  and  palaces  of  earth. 
But  then  it  shall  he  otherwise.  Here  we 
are  as  men  standing  outside  the  kingdoms 
of  the  world.  They  belong  to  the  "  prince 
of  this  world,"  hut  not  to  Christ,  and  there- 
fore not  to  us.  They  greet  us  with  no 
friendly  welcome.  They  have  no  honours 
for  us.  They  make  us  stand  without.  They 
are  to  us  what  Pilate,  and  Herod,  and  An- 
nas were  to  Jesus  ;  they  bid  us  he  Mrong- 
ed  and  smitten,  or,  at  least,  look  on  while 
we  endure  "  tribulation,  distress,  persecu- 
tion, famine,  nakedness,  peril,  sword." 
Much  of  the  church's  tribulation  has  arisen 
from  the  kino^doms  of  this  world  vot  being 
Christ's.  But  in  the  age  to  come,  it  is 
Christ  that  is  to  reign,  all  things  being  put 
in  subjection  to  him.  He  who  is  to  reign 
knows  what  it  is  to  be  hated  by  the  world, 
and  knows,  therefore,  how  to  make  up  to 
us,  in  his  kingdom,  for  all  the  hatred  where- 
with we  have  been  hated,  and  for  all  the 


158  THE   KINGDOM. 

Borrow  which  has  bowed  us  down  while 
here.  And  such  is  obviously  the  point  of 
Christ's  declaration  to  his  disciples.  (Luke 
xxii.  2S — 30.)  For  having  said  to  them, 
"  Ye  are  they  which  have  continued  with 
me  in  my  temptations,"  he  adds,  "  and  I 
appoint  unto  you  A  kingdom,  as  my  Fa- 
ther hath  appointed  unto  me ;  that  ye  may 
eat  and  drink  at  my  table  in  my  kingdom, 
and  sit  on  thrones,  judging  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel ; "  thus  linking  together 
present  suffering  /or  Christ  and  future 
Teigning  with  Christ, — present  continuance 
with  him  in  trial,  and  future  association 
with  him  in  his  own  kingdom,  when  he 
returns  to  receive  the  crown. 

3.  It  is  a  kingdom  not  of  this  world, 
(John  xviii.  36.)  Th^ words  '^  not  of  this 
world  "  are,  literally,  "  not  out  of,  or  not 
taken  out  of,  this  worL . ; "  just  as  when 
Christ  says,  "  Ye  are  of  this  world,  I  am 
not  of  this  world."  (John  viii.  23.)  This 
ivorld  is  wholly  evil,  and   under  the  do« 


THE    KINGDOM.  159 

minion  of  the  evil  one.  Its  territory  is  undet 
a  curse.  It  is  called  "  this  present  evil 
world."  (Gal.  i.  4.)  It  lieth  in  wickedness. 
(1  John  V.  19.)  Its  kingdoms  are  compared 
to  hideous  beasts  of  prey.  (Dan.  vii.)  Satan 
and  his^  hosts,  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of 
this  world.  (Eph.  vi.  12.)  Thus  every  thing 
pertaining  to  it  is  unholy.  Now,  the  king- 
dom to  come  is  not  fashioned  out  of  its  ma- 
terials, so  as  to  retain  any  thing  of  its  like- 
ness. Between  the  kingdoms  of  this  world 
and  THE  KINGDOM  of  the  world  to  come, 
there  is  no  congeniality  or  resemblance.  Of 
"  this  world  "  it  is  said^  that  it  rejects  the 
Spirit,  nay,  it  cannot  receive  him  (John 
xiv.  17)  ;  but  that  world  is  to  be  full  of  the 
Spirit,  for  "  the  Spirit  is  to  be  poured  from 
on  high,  and  the  wilderness  is  to  become  a 
fruitful  field."  (Isa.  xxxii.  15.)  Of  this 
"world  Satan  is  king  ;  of  that  world  Christ 
is  King.  This  world  knows  not  God,  neither 
the  Father  nor  the  Son  ;  but  in  that  world 
''  all  shall  know  him,  from  the  least  unto 
f2 


160  THE    KINGDOM. 

the  greatest."  In  this  world  all  is  dark- 
ness ;  in  that  woild  all  is  light.  This 
world  is  to  be  fought  against  and  over- 
come ;  that  world  is  to  be  loved  and  en- 
joyed. Thus  the  kingdom  of  which  we  are 
the  heirs,  is  as  unlike  this  world  as  Eden 
was  unlike  the  wilderness.  And  it  is  this 
that  makes  it  so  desirable.  Had  it  re- 
tained any  fragments  of  this  world's  evil , 
had  it  been  a  mere  re-construction  of  its 
carnal  fabric  ;  had  it  taken  up  into  itself 
any  of  its  corrupt  qualities,  thru  our  com- 
fort were  but  poor  in  anticipating  its  ar- 
rival, and  counting  on  the  exchange.  But 
it  is  not  of  this  world, — and  this  is  our  joy. 
We  have  had  enough  of  this  world  to  make 
us  long  for  its  passing  away ;  and  to  wel- 
come a  kingdom  in  which  no  taint  or  trace 
of  it  shall  be  found. 

4.  It  is  a  righteous  kingdom.  "  The 
kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink," 
that  is,  not  a  carnal  kingdom,  made  up  of 
outward  observances  and  sensual  dainties. 


THE   KINGDOM.  ]gj 

but  "righieomness,  and  peace,  and  joy  i„ 
the  Holy  Ghost;"  that   is,  a   righteous 
peaceful,  joyful  kingdom,  dwelt  in  and  per- 
vaded by  the  Holy  Spirit,  so  that  all  belon^. 
■ng  to  It  must  be  like  itself.  (Rom.  xiv  17°) 
It  IS  a  kingdom  whose  territory  is  the  "  new 
earth,  wherein  dwcUeth  rigMeou,„essr  (^ 
Pet.  iii.  13.3    The  "  unrigkteou.  shall  „ot 
.nherUit"(lCor.vi.9);butthe.,«,W, 
alone  shall  possess  it.    (Dan.  vii.  18.)    The 
"sceptre  of  this  kingdom  is   ^  rujMeou. 
sceptre."  (Psa.  xlv.  6.)    He  who  w -eld:;: 
w  the  HgUeom^in^  (Isa.xxxii.  1);  and 

•n  h,s  days  shall  the  righteous  flourish." 
(Psa.lxxi.7.)     It  is  a  "crown  of  n>A,. 

^<>»^«m,'thatislaidupforus.  (STimiv 
80     And  then  shall  "  the  work  of  nj/./ 

.o«.«m  be  peace,  and  the  effect  of  nV/,i 
eomnes.  quietness  and  assurance  for  ever  " 

asa.xxxii.  17.)  The  righteousness  of  th'is 
kingdom  makes  it  unspeakably  attractive 

to  those  who  have  been  wearied  out  with 
the    unrighteousness  of   an    unrighteou. 


162  '  THE    KINGDOM. 

world.  The  thought  that  "  the  morning  " 
is  to  hrlng  in  that  righteous  kingdom,  com- 
forts us  amid  the  clouds  and  thick  darkness 
of  this  night  of  weeping. 

5.  //  is  a  kingdom  of  peace.  War  has 
by  that  time  run  its  course ;  its  spears  are 
broken  and  turned  to  ploughshares;  strife 
and  hatred  have  fled.  The  storm  has  be- 
come a  calm,  and  the  vexed  sea  is  still. 
Holy  tranquillity  breathes  over  earth.  "  The 
mountains  bring  peace  to  the  people,  and 
the  little  hills,  by  righteousness ; — there 
shall  be  abundance  of  peace  so  long  as  the 
moon  endureth."  (^Psa.  Ixxii.  3 — 7.)  '^  Up- 
on David,  and  upon  his  seed,  and  upon  his 
house,  and  upon  his  throne,  there  shall  be 
peace  for  ever  ixom.  the  Lord."  (1  Kings 
ii.  33.)  Far  more  truly  than  in  the  days  of 
Solomon  there  shall  be  ''^  peace  on  all  sides 
round  about "  (1  Kings  iv.  24) ;  yea,  the 
Lord  God  will  give  rest  on  every  side,  so 
that  there  shall  be  "  neither  adversary  nor 
evil  occurrent."    (1   Kings   v.  4.)    Every 


THE   KIKGDOM.  163 

where  shall  be  inscribed  the  motto  upon 
Gideon's  altar,  "Jehovah-Shalom."  (Judg 
vi.  24,  margin.)  "  The  beasts  of  the  field 
shall  be  at  peace  with  us  "  (Job  v.  23) ;  for 
"  the  wolf  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb,  and 
the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid, 
and  the  calf  and  the  young  lion  and  the 
fatling  together,  and  a  little  child  shall 
lead  them  ;  and  the  cow  and  the  bear  shall 
feed,  their  young  ones  shall  lie  down  toge- 
ther. They  shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in 
all  my  holy  mountain."  (Isa.  xi.  6.)  The 
groans  of  creation  shall  then  be  over,  and 
its  deliverance  accomplished.  All  shall  be 
PEACE  ;  for  the  great  peace -maker  is 
come.  His  name  is  King  of  Salem,  that 
is,  King  of  peace.  (Heb.  vii.  2.)  He  is 
called  "  the  Prince  of  Peace^"*  and  "  of  the 
increase  of  his  government  and  peace  there 
shall  be  no  end."    (Isa.  ix.  6,  7.) 

With  what  longing  hearts  do  we  desire 
the  arrival  of  that  kingdom,  so  unlike  what 
this  troubled  earth  has  yet  known  from  the 


164  THE   KINGDOM. 

beginning  hitherto.  Each  new  sorrow  stirs 
the  longing.  Each  new  conflict  makes  us 
glad  at  the  thought  that  there  is  such  a 
kingdom  in  reserve.  Were  it  not  for  this, 
how  we  should  "fret  because  of  evil-doers;" 
and  how  soon  should  our  patience  give 
way !  But  with  our  eye  upon  this  kingdom 
of  peace,  we  can  "  glory  in  tribulation," 
we  can  drink  the  bitterest  cup,  we  can  face 
the  thickest  storm,  we  can  endure  the 
rudest  clamour;  and  when  the  world's  up- 
roar waxes  loudest  we  can  "  lift  up  our 
heads,,  knowing  that  our  redemption  draw- 
eth  nigh." 

6.  It  is  a  kingdom  that  cannot  he  moved, 
(Heb.  xii.  28.)  All  other  kingdoms  have 
not  only  been  moved,  but  shaken  to  pieces. 
Great  Babylon,  "  the  glory  of  kingdoms," 
has  been  a  sand- wreath,  raised  by  one  tide, 
and  levelled  by  the  next.  So  have  all 
others  been,  greater  or  lesser.  One  by  one 
they  have  been  overthrown  and  crushed,  or 
they  have  crumbled  down  and  become  like 


THE   KINGDOM.  165 

the  chaff  of  the  summer  threshing-floor. 
But  the  kingdom  that  we  look  for  is  "  the 
EVERLASTING  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ."  (2  Pet.  i.  11.)  It 
abides  for  ever.  Neither  force  nor  age  can 
affect  it.  It  rises  out  of  the  ruins  of  earth's 
present  empires,  though  unhke  them  all. 
The  things  that  can  decay  or  moulder  are 
''  shaken,"  in  order  that  they  may  be 
ihaken  off,  and  that  those  things  that  can- 
not be  shaken  may  remain.  And  thus 
there  comes  forth  the  immovable  king- 
dom,— the  kingdom  into  which  sin  comes 
not ;  in  which  change  has  no  place  ;  into 
which  the  curse  eats  not ;  of  which  wisdom 
and  holiness  are  the  strong  pillars ;  where 
misrule  is  unknown;  where  order  triumphs; 
and  of  which  the  glory  never  dims.  It  is 
joy  to  us  in  such  a  world  of  instability  and 
convulsion,  to  think  of  such  a  kingdom. 
Driventto  and  fro  with  the  changes  of  the 
kingdoms  we  inhabit  here ;  wearied  with 
the  falling  and  the  rising,  the  casting  down 


166  THE   KINGDOM. 

and  the  building  up,  we  long  for  a  king 
dom  that  shall  give  us  rest,  a  kingdom 
that  cannot  be  moved.  From  this  uncer- 
tainty and  fickleness,  how  many  of  our 
griefs  have  come!  For  what  is  there  so 
saddening,  so  sickening,  as  the  thought 
that  every  inch  of  ground  beneath  us  is 
shifting, — that  every  prop  on  which  we 
lean  is  breaking,  that  every  twig  to  which 
we  cling  is  snapping?  As  we  draw  our 
curtains  around  us,  we  know  not  what 
change,  what  loss,  what  sorrow  shall  greet 
us  on  the  morrow.  Or  -though  going  forth 
light-hearted  and  unburdened  in  the  morn- 
ing, we  tremble  to  think  what  clouds  may 
have  gathered  over  our  dwelling  ere  the 
evening  has  fallen.  Such  is  the  perishable- 
ness,  the  changeableness  of  earth  and  its 
kingdoms !  What  joy  to  look  beyond  them 
all,  and  see  through  their  shadows  the 
EVERLASTING  kingdom  !  Nay,  to  be*lassured 
that  this  kingdom  is  at  han-d,  and  that  ere 
lonff  He  "  who  is  without  variableness  o» 


THE   KINGDOM.  167 

shadow  of  turning,"  shall  hid  us  welcome 
.(  to  its  unchanging  rest;  and  He  who  is  "  the 
Jsame  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever,"  shall 

feeat  us  upon  the  eternal  throne, 
hy  ( 
^  "  Heaven,"  says  an  old  writer,  "  is  a  com- 
pany of  nohle  venturers  for  Christ ; "  and  we 
may  add,  of  "nohle  sufferers  too."— ;0f  such 
is  the  kingdom  of  h^ven  !  It  is  in  that 
kingdom  that  we  shall  rest  from  our  lahours, 
and  find  the  end  of  all  our  sufferings.  We 
shall  find  that  we  have  not  ventured  too 
much,  nor  laboured  too  much,  nor  suffered 
too  much.  The  glory  of  the  kingdom  will 
make  up  for  all. 

"  Fear  not,  little  flock,  it  is  your  Father's 
good  pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom." 
Along  with  "  the  King  of  glory,"  we  shall 
take  our  place  upon  the  throne,  in  that  day 
when,  after  "  raising  the  poor  out  of  the 
dust,  he  shall  set  them  among  princes,  and 
make  them  to  inherit  the  throne  of  glory  ;  " 
when  "  the  wicked  shall  be  silent  in  dark* 
uess  and  the  adversaries  of  the  Lord  shaU 


168  THE   KINGDOJL 

be  broken  in  pieces ; "   when  "  the  Lord 
shall  judge  the  ends  of  the  earth,  giving 
strength  unto  his  king,  and  exalting  tlie| 
horn  of  his  anointed."  (1  Sam.  ii.  8 — 10.) 

"  Thy  kingdom  come  !  "  This  is  the  bur- 
den of  our  cries.  Weary  of  man's  rule,  we 
long  for  God's.  Sick  at  heart  with  this 
world's  scenes  of  evil, — man  spoiling  man ; 
man  enslaving  man ;  man  wounding  man  ; 
man  defrauding  man ;  man  treading  upon 
man ; — we  long  for  the  setting  up  of  the 
righteous  throne.  Oh,  what  a  world  will 
this  he,  when  man's  will  as  well  as  man's 
rule  shall  he  exchanged  for  Christ's  rule 
and  will ;  when  God's  "  will  shall  be  done 
on  earth  even  as  it  is  done  in  heaven  "  ! 

It  is  our  joy  to  think  that  this  kingdom 
is  near ;  and  that  there  are  no  centuries  of 
sin  and  wrong  still  in  reserve  either  for  the 
church  or  for  the  earth.  Its  nearness  is  our 
consolation..  The  hope  that  it  will  come 
cheers  us  ;  but  the  thought  that  it  is  com- 
ing soon  cheers  us  more.     For  both  faith 


THE    KINGDOM.  Il59 

and  hope  are  fed  by  the  thought  o^  nearness. 

We  do  not  fret  at  delay,  nor  grow  faint  and 

disconsolate.      Tet   in   some  respects  our 

feelings  are  not  unlike  those  thus  described 

by  one  of  other  days, 

...  So  tedious  is  this  day, 
As  is  the  night  before  some  festival 
To  an  impatient  child  that  hath  new  robes, 
And  may  not  wear  them,   .  .  . 

Our  bridal  robes  are  ready,  and  we  long  to 
put  them  on.  Our  priestly-royal  raiment 
is  also  ready,  and  we  desire  to  exchange 
for  it  these  weeds  of  poverty,  and  shame, 
and  widowhood.  Yet  "  in  patience  we 
possess  our  souls." 

We  are  on  the  daily  out-look  for  a  king- 
dom, lifting  up  our  heads  knowing  that  our 
redemption  draweth  nigh.  It  "will  not  tarry. 
The  signs  of  its  approach  are  multiplying. 
The  shadows  are  still  passing  and  repassing 
along  the  grey  cliffs,  but  their  increasing 
rapidity  of  movement  shows  a  momentous 
change  at  hand.  Kingdoms  are  still  rising 
as  well  as  falling,  but  the  deep  force  of  the 


170  THE   KINGDOM. 

vibrations  —  the  brevity  as  well  as  the 
abruptness  of  oscillation — betoken  a  crisis. 
At  this  crisis  the  world's  movements  are 
Drought  to  a  stand.  Then,  touched  by  a 
Divine  hand,  they  recommence.  A  better 
order  of  rule  begins.*  Satan  has  been 
bound.  (Rev.  xx.  1 — 3.)  "  The  oppressor 
has  ceased."  (Isa.  xiv.  4.)  He  who  "  smote 
the  people  in  wrath"  is  smitten.  (Isa.  xiv. 
6.)  The  misgoverned  world  rejoices.  "  The 
whole  earth  is  at  rest  and  is  quiet ;  they 
that  dwell  in  it  break  forth  into  singing." 
(Isa.  xiv.  7.)  The  anointed  King  has  ap« 
peared.     The  great  kingdom  has  come  I 

•  Ultima  Cumaei  venit  jam  carminis  aetas, 
Magnus  ab  integro  saeclorum  nascitur  ordo 
Aspice  venturo  leetentur  at  omnia  saeclo. 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE   GRACE. 


Our  fountain-head  of  blessing  here  ift 
GRACE.  It  was  to  this  grace  or  free  love 
of  God  that  we  came  when  first  the  con- 
sciousness of  want  and  sin  awoke  within 
us.  This  grace  of  God  we  found  to  be 
large  enough  for  us,  and  altogether  suit- 
able ;  so  that  while  we  felt  ourselves  unfit 
objects  for  any  thing  else,  we  were  just  the 
more,  on  that  account,  fit  objects  for  grace. 
Either  for  wrath  or  for  grace  we  were  fit, 
but  for  nothing  else — for  nothing  between. 
We  shrank  from  the  wrath,  and  we  took 
refuge  in  the  grace.  Between  the  one  and 
the  other,  the  blood  of  the  accepted  sacri- 
fice had  made  a  way,  "  a  way  of  holiness  ;" 
q2 


172  THE   GRACE. 

we  saw  that  way,  we  saw  it  to  be  free  and 
unchallenged,  we  fled  along  that  way,  and 
soon  found  ourselves  beyond  the  reach  of 
wrath,  under  the  broad  covering  of  grace, 
nay,  under  the  very  wing  of  the  gracious 
One,  of  him  who  is  *'  full  of  grace  and 
truth." 

It  was  the  knowledge  of  this  grace  that 
rooted  up  our  doubts,  that  quieted  our 
fears,  and  made  us  blush  for  our  unbelief 
and  suspicious  mistrust.  It  is  the  know- 
ledge of  this  grace  that  still  keeps  our  souls 
in  peace,  in  spite  of  weakness,  and  sin, 
and  conflict.  Being  permitted  to  draw 
upon  it  without  limit  and  without  restric- 
tion, we  feel  that  no  circumstances  can 
arise,  in  which  we  shall  not  be  at  liberty 
to  use  it,  nay,  in  which  it  is  not  our  chief 
sin  to  stand  aloof  from  it,  as  if  it  had  be- 
come less  wide  and  free.  With  all  this 
large  grace  placed  at  our  disposal,  to  draw 
upon  continually,  what  folly  to  be  afraid  of 
enemies,  and  evils,  and  days  of  trouble  I 


THE   GRACE.  173 

For  thus  saith  the  prophet,  "  Blessed  is 
the  man  that  trusteth  in  the  Lord,  and 
whose  hope  the  Lord  is.  For  he  shall  be 
as  a  tree  planted  by  the  waters,  and  that 
spreadeth  out  her  roots  by  the  river,  and 
shall  not  see  when  heat  cometh,  but  her 
leaf  shall  be  green ;  and  shall  not  be  care- 
ful in  the  year  of  drought,  neither  shall 
cease  from  yielding  fruit."  (Jer.  xvii.  7,  8.) 
It  is  in  this  grace  that  we  "continue." 
(Acts  xiii.  43.)  It  is  in  this  grace  that  we 
"  stand."  (Rom.  v.  2.)  It  is  in  this  grace 
that  we  are  to  "be  strong."  (2  Tim.  ii.  1.) 
It  is  this  grace  that  we  are  to  "  holdfast." 
(Heb.  xii.  28,  margin.)  It  is  this  grace 
that  is  *'  sufficient  for  us."  (2  Cor.  xii.  9.) 
It  is  this  grace  that  we  desire  for  others, 
saying,  "  The  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
be  with  you."  (Eph.  vi.  24.)  All  is  grace, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  unmingled 
grace,  in  which  no  respect  is  had  to  aught 
of  good  done,  felt,  thought,  spoken  by  us. 
So  that  the  history  of  our  life  is  wrapt  up 
Q  3 


174  THE    GRACE. 

in  these  blessed  words,  "  Where  sin 
abounded,  grace  did  much  more  abound." 
(Rom.  V.  20.)  We  have  found  that  the 
new  sins  of  each  hour,  so  far  from  closing 
the  founfain  of  grace  against  us,  opened 
new  springs  of  grace  for  us — springs  o^ 
gi'ace  which  we  should  never  otherwise 
have  known,  nor  thought  it  possible  to 
exist.  Not  as  if  sin  were  less  vile  on  this 
account.  David's  horrid  sins  were  the 
occasions  of  opening  up  new  depths  of 
grace,  unimagined  before ;  yet  his  iniquity 
lost  none  of  its  hatefulness  thereby.  So 
grace  is  ever  gushing  forth  upon  us  to 
sweep  away  each  new  sin,  yet  in  doing  so 
it  makes  the  sin  thus  swept  away  to  ap- 
pear more  hideous  and  inexcusable.  The 
brighter  the  sun,  the  darker  and  sharper 
are  the  shadows ;  so  the  fuller  the  grace, 
the  viler  the  sin  appears. 

And  as  our  personal  history,  as  saved 
men,  is  the  history  of  abounding  sin  met 
by  more  abounding  grace,  so  is  the  history 


THE    GRACE.  175 

at  large  of  all  things  in  this  fallen  world. 
What  is  all  Israel's  history,  every  step  of 
it,  but  the  history  of  man's  boundless  sin 
drawing  out  the  more  boundless  grace  of 
God  ?  What  is  the  church's  history  but  the 
same,  so  that  each  of  the  chosen  and  called 
ones  who  make  up  its  mighty  multitude, 
can  say  with  him  of  old,  whose  name  was 
chief  of  sinners,  "The  grace  of  our  Lord 
was  EXCEEDING  ABUNDANT  with  faith  and 
love  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  (1  Tim.  i. 
14.)  And  what  is  even  the  history  of  this 
material  creation,  on  which  the  curse  has 
pressed  so  lofng  and  heavily,  but  the  history 
of  grace  abounding  over  sin  and  rescuing 
from  the  devouring  fire  this  polluted  soil  ? 

All  has  been  of  grace  hitherto.  And  all 
shall  be  of  grace  hereafter.  In  this  respect 
there  shall  be  no  change. . 

Yet  this  is  not  the  whole  truth.  For 
the  brightest  disclosures  are  yet  to  come. 
The  first  coming  of  the  Lord  opened  up  to 
us  heights  and  depths  of  most  wondroiw 


176  THE    GRACE. 

grace  j  but  his  second  coming  is  to  biing 
with  it  discoveries  of  grace  as  marvellous, 
and  as  yet  unrevealed.  That  promise, 
"  The  Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory," 
(Psa.  Ixxxiv.  11,)  seems  specially  to  refer 
to  the  time,  when,  after  days  of  sad  long- 
ing, (verse  2,)  and  weary  journeying 
through  the  valley  of  Baca,  (ver.  6,)  we 
appear  in  Zion  before  God,  and  standing 
with  the  New  Jerusalem  we  sing  the  song 
of  blessed  contrast,  "  A  day  in  thy  courts 
is  better  than  a  thousand,"  as  if  this  new 
outburst  of  grace,  which  meets  us  as  we 
enter  the  gates  of  pearl,  overpassed  all  that 
we  had  tasted  before.  The  apostle  Peter 
also  points  forward  to  the  same  period  foi 
the  full  display  of  grace,  when  he  speaks  of 
"  the  GRACE  that  is  to  be  brought  unto  us^ 
at  the  revelation,  of  Jesus  Christ  "  (1  Petei 
i.  13) ;  indicating  this  to  us,  that  in  thaf 
day,  new  and  larger  circles  of  grace  shali 
open  out,  just  as  the  horizon  widens  when 
the  sun   ascends.     To  this  same  day  the 


THE   GRACE.  177 

prophet  Zechariah  points  when  he  says, 
"  He  shall  bring  forth  the  headstone  with 
shoutings,  crying,  Grace,  grace  unto  it.'' 
(Zech.  iv.  7.)  But  especially  is  this  truth 
taught  us  by  the  apostle  Paul  when  he 
tells  us,  that  God's  object  in  quickening  us 
together  with  Christ,  in  raising  us  up  to- 
gether and  making  us  sit  together  in 
heavenly  places,  is,  that  "  in  the  ages  to 
come*  he  might  show  the  exceeding 
RICHES  OF  HIS  GRACE  in  his  kinducss  to- 
wards us  through  Christ  Jesus."  f  Here 
he  heaps  word  upon  word,  as  if  he  could 
find  none  strong  enough  for  his  purpose  ; 

*  ku  Tots  aliotTi  ToTs  ETTEp^ofxii/oii,  that  is,  "  in  the 
ages  that  are  coming  upon  us."  It  is  the  same  word  as 
is  used  in  those  two  places  in  Luke,  "looking  after 
those  things  that  are  coming  on  the  earth,"  and,  "  as  a 
snare  shall  it  come  on  all  them  that  dwell  on  the  earth." 
Not  as  if  this  were  confined  to  millennial  times.  Tliese 
are  called  "  the  age  to  come,"  but  these  others  are 
**  the  ages  to  come." 

t  Eph.  ii,  7.  .  The  word  "exceeding"  is  a  very 
strong  one,  v-mptaXKovTa  ttXovtov,  and  is  the  same 
word  used  2  Cor.  iii.  10,  "The  glory  that  excelleth ;** 
Eph.  i.  19,  "  The  exceeding  greatness  of  his  power  ;  ** 
iii.  19,  "The  love  of  Christ  i\i^ipasseth  knowledge." 


17b  THE   GRACE. 

it  is  not  merely  grace,  but  it  is  riches  •/ 
grace;  nay,  it  is  not  this  o?ily,  it  is  exceed- 
ing richer  of  grace ;  riches  of  grace  not 
only  excelling  all  other  riches,  but  excel- 
ling all  those  riches  of  grace  that  have 
hitherto  been  known,  as  if  past  grace  were 
to  be  forgotten  in  the  plenteousness  of  that 
which  is  to  come. 

How  often  in  Isi'aeVs  past  days,  when 
sin  abounded,  has  grace  come  pouring  in, 
obliterating  it  all  as  if  it  had  never  been  ! 
But  in  the  day  when  "  the  Redeemer  shall 
come  to  Zion  and  turn  away  ungod- 
liness from  Jacob," — at  the  moment  when 
their  cry  of  despair  may  be,  "  Hath  God 
forgotten  to  be  gracious  f  "  shall  grace  come 
in  upon  them  like  a  flood,  fuller  and  richer 
than  any  thing  that  they  or  their  fathers 
knew,  bearing  down  mightier  obstacles, 
and  levelling  higher  mountains  of  iniquity. 
For  it  is  written,  in  reference  to  this  time, 
"  Therefore  will  the  Lord  wait,  that  he 
may  be  gracious  to  you  ....  he  will  be  very 


THE    GRACE.  179 

gracious  to  thee  at  the  voice  of  thy  cry.** 
(Isa.  XXX.  18.)  In  that  day  shall  "  grace  *' 
not  merely  bring  forgiveness  to  Israel,  but 
raise  her  to  a  height  of  glory  in  the  earth 
and  eminence  among  the  nations  ;  so  that 
the  past  shall  not  be  remembered  nor  come 
into  mind. 

How  often  in  the  church'' s  past  history 
has  grace  been  magnified  !  Each  age  has 
brought  out  to  view  new  wonders  of  grace, 
because  of  which  she  has  praised  the  God 
of  all- grace.  But  the  abundance  of  the 
past  is  not  all  that  is  in  store  for  her.  Her 
returning  Lord  shall  bring  with  him  all 
the  "  exceeding  riches  of  his  grace,"  and 
upon  her  shall  these  riches  be  expended. 
When  caught  up  into  the  clouds  to  meet 
her  Lord  in  the  air  and  to  be  for  ever  with 
him,  she  shall  be  led  into  the  treasure- 
house  of  grace  and  get  a  glimpse  of  its 
vastness.  Each  step  in  her  past  course 
has  drawn  forth  a  fresh  out-flow  of  abound- 
ing grace.      Grace  found  her  in  the  desert 


180  THE    GRACE. 

land  and  in  the  waste  howling  wilderness. 
Grace  drew  her  out  of  the  horrible  pit  and 
out  of  the  miry  clay.  Grace  washed  her, 
and  "  clothed  "  her,  and  "  shod  "  her,  and 
"girded"  her,  and  "  decked  her  with  orna 
ments,"  (Ezek.  xvi.  9 — 11,)  giving  her 
beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourn- 
ing, the  garments  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of 
heaviness.  Grace  strengthened  her  for 
warfare,  and  hardship,  and  labour,  making 
her  more  than  conqueror  through  him  that 
loved  her.  Grace  comforted  her  in  the 
evil  day,  wiped  away  tears,  poured  in  fresh 
joys,  and  threw  round  her  the  everlasting 
arms.  Grace  taught  her  to  pray,  and 
praise,  and  love,  and  trust,  and  serve,  in 
spite  of  the  ever-revolting  heart  within. 
Grace  kept  her  as  a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim 
here,  without  a  city  and  without  a  resting- 
place  on  earth,  looking  for  the  city  of 
foundations,  watching  for  her  Lord's  ap- 
pearing, amid  all  the  heart-sickenings  of 
hope  deferred,  and  wearying  for  the  Bride- 


THE    GRACE.  181 

groom's  embrace,  undazzled  and  undis- 
tracted  by  the  false  splendour  of  a  present 
evil  world.  But  the  grace  that  has  brought 
her  thus  far  is  not  exhausted.  For  it  is 
absolutely  boundless,  like  the  heart  of  Him 
out  of  whom  it  comes ;  and  as  it  raises  the 
church  from  one  level  to  another,  its  own 
circle  is  ever  enlarging. 

The  resurrection-dawn,  the  morning  of 
joy,  brings  with  it  new  stores  of  grace.  We 
had  thought  that  grace  could  go  no  further 
than  it  had  gone  here,  in  forgiving  so  many 
sins,  in  saving  us  with  so  complete  a  salva- 
tion ;  but  we  then  shall  find  that  grace 
had  only  begun  to  display  itself. 

It  was  but  the  first  draught  from  the 
deep  well  that  we  tasted  here.  Grace 
meets  us  as  we  come  up  from  the  tomb  to 
load  us  with  new  blessings,  such  as  eye 
hath  not  seen  nor  ear  heard.  It  clothes 
us  with  the  royal  raiment.  It  seats  us 
upon  the  throne.  It  gives  us  the  '*  crown 
of  life  "  (Rev.  ii.  10) ;  the  "  crown  of  right- 


182  THE    GRACE. 

eousness.'*  (2  Tim.  iv.  8.)  It  makes  ufl 
pillars  in  the  temple  of  our  God.  It  writes 
upon  us  the  name  of  our  God,  and  the 
name  of  the  city  of  our  God.  It  gives  us 
"  the  morning-star."  It  gives  us  the  white 
stone,  and  in  the  stone  a  new  nam«  written 
which  no  man  knoweth,  saving  he  that 
receiveth  it.  It  makes  us  to  eat  of  the 
hidden  manna.  It  leads  us  back  to  the 
tree  of  life  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
paradise  of  God.  It  brings  us  into  the 
bridal  chamber  ;  it  sets  us  down  at  the 
marriage  table,  teaching  us  to  sing,  "  Let 
us  be  glad  and  rejoice,  and  give  honour  to 
him,  for  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come, 
and  his  wife  hath  made  herself  ready."  It 
carries  us  into  the  midst  of  that  city  which 
has  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the 
moon  to  shine  in  it;  whose  wall  is  of 
jasper,  whose  foundations  gems,  whose 
gates  pearls,  whose  streets  translucent 
gold.  It  gives  us  to  drink  of  the  pure 
river  of  the  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal. 


THE    GRA.CE.  183 

proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and 
of  the  Lamb. 

All  these  things  grace  is  yet  to  do  for  us 
in  that  morning  which  is  to  dawn  when 
this  night  of  weeping  is  at  an- end.  All  this 
glory  —  this  excee-ding  and  eternal  weight 
of  glory — we  shall  owe  to  the  exceeding 
riches  of  that  grace  which  is  then  so  mar- 
vellously to  unfold  itself,  heaping  honour 
upon  honour,  and  gift  upon  gift,  and  joy 
upon  joy,  without  end  for  ever. 

In  this  let  us  mark  the  difference  be- 
tween Christ  and  his  church,  the  Bride- 
groom and  the  bride.  The  same  glory  in- 
vests both  ;  but  the  way  of  receiving  it  is 
widely  different.  To  him  it  is  a  reward  of 
righteousness,  to  her  of  grace.  Righteous- 
ness crowns  him,  grace  crowns  her.  These 
marvellous  honours  are  in  his  case  the 
claim  of  righteousness,  in  hers  the  mere 
award  of  grace.  Of  him  it  is  written, 
"  Thou  hast  loved  righteousness  and  hated 
iniquity,  therefore  God,  even  thy  God,  hath 
K  2 


184  THE    GRAOE. 

anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above 
thy  fellows  "  (Psa.  xlv.  7);  while  of  her  it 
is  said,  "  ^^'ho  hath  saved  us  and  called  us 
with  an  holy  caMing,  not  according  to  our 
works,  but  according  to  his  own  purpose 
and  GRACE,  given  us  in  Christ  Jesus  before 
the  world  began."  (2  Tim.  i.  9.)  What 
righteousness  does  for  him,  grace  does  for 
her.  And  oh  how  boundless  must  that 
grace  be,  when  it  can  do  for  her  all  that 
righteousness  can  do  for  him  ! 

That  coming  day  of  grace  sheds  light 
ipon  the  present,  by  showing  us  how  vast 
and  inexhaustible  that  grace  is  which  is 
oouring  itself  out  from  the  bosom  of  the 
Father  through  the  blood  of  the  Son.  If 
'ihese  riches  of  grace  be  so  exceeding  great, 
'ihen  how  is  it  possible  for  us  to  entertain 
'the  suspicion  that  so  often  haunts  us  now, 
"*  Is  there  grace  enough  for  the  pardon  of 
jins  like  mine, — grace  enough  to  secure 
Vv'elcome  and  acceptance  to  a  sinner  like 
me?'"    What  I  is  there  grace  enough  to  re' 


THE    GRACE.  185 

ceive  myriads,  washing  them  clean  and 
presenting  them  blameless  in  the  clay  of 
the  Lord  with  exceeding  joy,  and  is  there 
not  enough  for  one  ?  Is  there  grace  enough 
to  pour  out  such  wondrous  glory  upon  the 
multitudes  of  the  undeserving  hereafter, 
and  is  there  not  enough  to  bring  forgive- 
ness to  one  undeserving  soul  just  now  ?  So 
that  in  thus  telling  of  the  grace  which  the 
ages  to  come  are  to  unroll,  we  are  proclaim- 
ing good  news  to  the  chief  of  sinners, — 
good  news  concerning  the  infinite  large- 
ness of  grace, — good  news  concerning  Him 
out  of  whom  this  blessed  stream  is  flowing. 
Oh,  what  a  rebuke  to  fear,  to  doubt,  to 
suspicion,  to  unbelief,  is  the  truth  concern- 
ing these  exceeding  riches  of  grace  yet  tc 
be  developed  1  Is  it  possible  that  we  can 
go  on,  fearing,  doubting,  suspecting,  mis- 
believing, with  the  assured  knowledge  that 
grace  is  so  free  and  large,  so  sufficient  to 
embrace  the  whole  circumstances  of  our 
case,  so  suitable  to  each  special  want,  each 
B  3 


186  THE    GRACE. 

special  burden,  each  special  sin  ?    Shall  we 

dare  to  make  more  of  the  sin  than  of  the 
grace,  of  the  want  than  of  the  supply,  of 
the  burden  than  of  the  "relief?  Shall  we 
not  be  ashamed  to  magnify  oar  sin  beyond 
the  grace  of  God,  and  to  reason  as  if  the 
orrace  that  can  confer  on  us  the  kingdom 
and  the  crown  of  Christ  were  not  large 
enough  in  compass  to  cover  our  sins  ?  Oh 
the  folly  of  unbelief  I  —  folly  without  a 
name  and  without  an  equal,  to  believe  in  a 
grace  willing  to  place  us  on  the  throne  of 
the  universe  by  the  side  of  the  everlasting 
Son,  yet  not  willing  to  pardon  us, — a  grace 
large  enough  to  say,  '^  Come,  ye  blessed  of 
my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared 
for  you  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,'* 
yet  not  large  enougli  to  say,  "  Be  of  good 
cheer,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee  !  " 

"  It  doth  not  indeed  yet  appear  what  we 
shall  be."  Yet,  as  the  womb  of  grace  knows 
no  abortions,  we  know  "  that  he  who  has 
begun  the  good  work  in  us  will  perform  it 


TUE    GRACE.  18? 

until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ."  The  grace 
has  not  had  full  room  to  expand  itself  and 
show  all  the  vastness  of  its  compass.  Our 
life  is  hid ;  our  glory  is  hid  ;  our  inherit- 
ance is  hid ;  our  city  has  not  yet  come 
down  out  of  heaven  from  God.  In  the  pit 
of  Dothan  it  did  not  appear  what  Joseph 
was  to  be.  His  strange  dreams  did  betoken 
something,  yet  who  could  have  thought 
that  he  was  to  sit  upon  Pharaoh's  throne  ? 
It  did  not  appear  what  Ruth  was  to  be 
■when  she  lived  in  Moab,  a  stranger  to  the 
true  God,  or  even  when  she  left  home  and 
kindred  to  cast  in  her  lot  with  Israel.  That 
blessed  scene  of  love  and  faith  when  "  Or- 
pah  kissed "  and  "  Ruth  clave,"  giving 
forth  a  heart  of  no  common  mould,  did  in- 
timate something,  but  who  could  have 
thought  that  she  was  to  be  a  mother  in 
Israel,  from  whom  Messiah  was  to  spring  ? 
So  we  do  not  now  wear  the  aspect  of 
that  which  we  shall  be.  We  do  not  look 
like  kings.     And  though  at  times,  whe 


188  THE    GRACE. 

we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  promised  crown, 
and  when  a  vision  of  its  nearness  passes 
before  us,  our  face  flushes,  our  eye  kindles; 
our  gait  unconsciously  assumes  unusual 
dignity,  yet  in  general  we  look  very  unlike 
that  which  we  shall  be.  Sometimes  the 
star  of  nobility — the  badge  of  our  order — 
flashes  out  from  the  sordid  covering  and 
glitters  on  our  breast,  yet  this  is  seldom ; 
more  seldom  now  in  these  last  days  than 
formerly.  For  religion,  even  the  best,  has 
sunk  down  from  its  primitive  loftiness  into 
a  tame,  second-rate,  inferior  thing,  and  the 
still-clinging  garments  of  the  old  man  cover 
in  or  quench  every  rising  ray  of  anticipated 
glory. 

What  different  beings  grace  would  make 
us  would  we  but  allow  it !  Yet,  instead  of 
allowing  it,  we  put  it  from  us,  content  with 
just  as  much  of  it  as  will  save  us  from  the 
wrath  to  come.  We  shrink  from  its  fulness, 
as  if  we  should  thereby  stand  committed 
to  a  far  holier  walk  and  higher  style  of 


THE    GRACE.  189 

living  than  we  are  prepared  for.  For  "  the 
grace  of  God  that  bringeth  salvation  teach- 
eth  us  to  deny  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts,  and  to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and 
godly  in  this  present  world,  looking  for 
that  blessed  hope,  even  the  glorious  ap- 
pearing of  the  great  God,  and  our  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  who  gave  himself  for  us  that 
he  might  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity,  and 
purify  unto  himself  a  peculiar  people 
zealous  of  good  works." 

The  grace  that  flowed  in  upon  us  dur- 
ing our  long  night  has  been  large  and 
manifold  ;  but  it  is  not  ended  with  the 
night.  The  morning  brings  with  it  new 
stores  of  grace.  When  that  grace  unfolds 
itself,  then  shall  it  appear  what  we  really 
are.  Our  present  guise  will  fall  from  us, 
we  shall  stand  forth  as  'Hieirs  of  God,"  and 
he  who  hath  given  us  grace  shall  also  give 
as  glory;  he  who  led  us  through  the 
night  shall  bring  us  forth  to  the  joy  of  the 
morning. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

THE   GLORY. 

Not  only  a  man's  true  life,  but  a  man's 
true  history  begins  with  his  conversion. 
Up  till  that  time,  he  is  a  being  without  a 
history.  He  has  no  story  to  tell.  He  is 
but  part  of  a  world  lying  in  wickedness, 
having  nothing  about  him  worthy  of  a 
record. 

But  from  the  moment  that  he  is  born 
again,  and  thus  taken  out  of  the  mass,  he 
receives  a  personality  as  well  as  a  dignity 
which  fit  him  for  having  a  history, — a  his- 
tory which  God  can  own  as  such,  and 
«vhich  God  himself  will  record.  From 
that  time  he  has  a  story  to  tell,  wondrous 
and  divine,  such  as  angels  listen  to,  and 
over  which  there  is  joy  in  heaven. 


THE    GLORY.  191 

In  that  broad  ocean,  there  are  millions 
of  drops ;  yet  they  are  one  mingled  mass 
of  fluid;  no  one  of  them  has  a  history. 
There  may  be  a  history  of  the  ocean,  but 
not  of  its  individual  drops.  But,  see,  yon 
drop  is  beginning  to  part  from  the  mass. 
It  takes  hold  of  a  sun-beam  and  rises  into 
the  firmament.  There  it  gleams  in  the 
rainbow  or  brightens  in  the  hues  of  sun-set. 
It  has  now  a  history.  From  the  moment 
that  it  came  out  of  the  mass  and  obtained 
a  personality,  it  had  a  story  to  tell,  a  story 
of  its  own,  a  story  of  splendour  and  beauty. 

In  those  vast  blocks  of  unquarried  rock 
what  various  forms  are  lying  concealed ! 
what  shapes  of  statuary  or  architecture 
are  there!  Yet  they  have  no  history.  They 
can  have  none.  They  ar^  but  parts  of  a 
hideous  block,  in  which  not  one  line  or 
curve  of  beauty  is  visible.  But  the  noise 
of  hammers  is  heard.  Man  lifts  up  his 
tool.  A  single  block  is  severed.  Again 
he  lifts  up  his  tool,  and  it  begins  to  assume 


192  THE    GLORY. 

a  form ;  till,  as  stroke  after  stroke  falls  on 
it,  and  touch  after  touch  smooths  and 
shapes  it,  the  perfect  image  of  the  human 
form  is  seen,  and  it  seems  as  if  the  hand  of 
the  artist  had  only  heen  employed  in  un- 
wrapping the  stony  folds  from  that  fair 
form,  and  awakening  it  from  the  slumher 
of  its  marble  tomb.  From  the  moment 
that  the  chisel  touched  that  piece  of  rock 
its  history  began. 

Such  is  the  case  of  a  saint.  From  the 
moment  that  the  hand  of  the  Spirit  is  laid 
on  him  to  begin  the  process  of  separation, 
from  that  moment  his  history  begins.  He 
then  receives  a  conscious,  outstanding 
personality,  that  fits  him  for  having  a  his- 
tory—  a  history  entirely  marvellous  ;  a 
histoi'y  whose  pages  are  both  written  and 
read  in  heaven ;  a  history  which  in  its 
divine  brightness  spreads  over  eternity. 
His  true  dignity  now  commences.  He  is 
fit  to  take  a  place  in  story.  Each  event  in 
his  life  becomes  worthy  of  a  record.    "  The 


THE    GLORY.  193 

rigbteous  shall  be  in  everlasting  remem- 
brance." 

On  earth  this  history  is  one  of  suffering 
and  dishonour,  even  as  was  that  of  the 
Master  ;  but  hereafter,  in  the  kingdom,  it 
is  one  of  glory  and  honour.  "  All  the 
time,"  says  Howe,  "  from  the  soul's  first 
conversion  God  has  been  at  work  upon  it, 
labouring,  shaping  it,  polishing  it,  spread- 
ing his  own  glory  on  it,  inlaying,  enamel- 
ling it  with  glory ;  now  at  last  the  whole 
work  is  revealed,  the  curtain  is  drawn 
aside,  and  the  blessed  soul  awakes."  Then 
a  new  epoch  in  its  history  begins. 

What  that  history  is  to  be,  we  know  not 
now.  That  it  will  be  wondrous,  we  know; 
how  wondrous  we  cannot  conceive.  That 
it  will  be  very  unlike  our  present  one,  we 
know ;  yet  still  not  severed  from  it,  but 
linked  to  it,  nay,  springing  oufiof  it  as  its 
root  or  seed.  Our  present  life  is  the 
under-grouvd  state  of  the  plant ;  our  future 
life,  the  shooting,  and  blossoming,  and  fruit- 


194  THE    GLORY. 

bearing;  but  the  plant  is  the  same,  and 
the  future  depends  for  all  its  excellency 
and  beauty  upon  the  present  Night  is 
not  the  shutting  up  of  day,  bu:  day  is  the 
opening  out  of  night.  Day  is  but  the 
night  in  blossom, — the  expanded  petals  of 
some  dark,  unsightly  bud,  containing  with- 
in it  glories  of  which  no  glimpses  have 
yet  reached  us  here.  It  is  moody  senti- 
ment, as  well  as  false  philosophy,  to  say  as 
one  in  our  day  has  done,  "  Night  is  nobler 
than  day;  day  is  but  a  motley-coloured 
veil,  spread  transiently  over  the  inniiite 
bosom  of  night,  hiding  from  us  its  purely 
transparent,  eternal  deeps."  Night  is  at 
best  but  the  beauty  of  death  ;  day,  of  life. 
And  it  is  life,  not  death,  that  is  beautiful. 
And  if  life  on  earth,  in  all  its  various  forms 
and  unfoldings,  be  so  very  beautiful,  what 
will  it  not  be  hereafter,  when  it  unfolds  it- 
self to  the  full,  transfused  throughout  all 
being,  with  an  intensity  now  unknown,  as 
if  almost   becoming  visible  by   means  of 


THE    GLORY.  195 

the  new  glory  which  it  then  shall  spread 
over  all  creation. 

"  The  wise  shall  inherit  glory:''  (Prov. 
iii.  35.)  "  The  saints  shall  be  joyful  in 
glorijr  (Psa.  cxlix.  5.)  They  are  "  ves- 
sels of  mercy,  afore  prepared  unto  glory:'' 
(Rom.  ix.  23.)  That  to  which  we  are 
called  is  "  eternal  glory:'  (1  Pet.  v.  10.) 
That  which  we  obtain  is  "  salvation  in 
Christ  Jesus  with  elernal  glory:'  (2  Tim. 
ii.  10.)  It  is  to  glory  that  God  is  "  bring- 
ing many  sons  "  (Heb.  ii.  10) ;  so  that  as 
he,  through  whom  we  are  brought  to 
it,  is  "  crowned  with  glory  and  honour,'* 
so  shall  we  be.  (Heb.  ii.  9.)  We  are 
"  to  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and 
full  of  glory:'  (1  Pet.  i.  8.)  We  are  not 
only  "  witnesses  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ, 
but  partakers  of  the  glory  that  shall  be  re- 
vealed." (1  Pet.  V.  1.)  So  that  the  word 
of  exhortation  runs  thus  :  "  Rejoice,  inas- 
much as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ*s  suf- 
ferings ;    that,    when    his  glory   shall   be 

82 


196  THE    GLORT. 

revealed,  ye  may  be  glad  also  with  exceed- 
ing joy."  (1  Pet.  iii.  13.)  And  the  promise 
is  not  only,  "  if  we  suffer  we  shall  also  reign 
with  him  ;  "  but,  ^'  if  we  suffer  with  him 
we  shall  be  also  glorified  together."  (Rom. 
viii.  17.) 

This  glory,  then,  is  our  portion.  It  is 
the  "  better  thing  "  that  God  has  provided 
for  us,  and  because  of  which  he  is  not 
ashamed  to  be  called  our  God.  This  is 
the  glory  that  throws  all  present  suffering 
into  the  shade,  making  it  to  be  eternally 
forgotten. 

Glory  is  the  concentrated  essence  of  all 
that   is   holy,    excellent,    and    beautiful.* 

*  "  Glory,  in  the  proper  notion  of  it,  is  nothing  else 
but  resplendent  excellency,  the  lustre  of  excellency,  or 
real  worth  made  conspicuous.  Yet  as  there  is  an  ex- 
cellency conceivable  in  the  nature  of  it,  that  excellency 
whereof  it  is  the  splendour  and  brightness  ;  so  we  must 
conceive  a  peculiar  excellency  of  that  very  radiation, 
that  splendour  itself,  wherewith  it  shines  into  blessed 
souls.  In  its  very  nature  it  is  the  brightness  of  Divine 
excellencies;  in  its  present  appearance  (that  is,  in 
heaven)  it  shines  in  the  highest  excellency  of  that 
brightness.     In  its  nature  it  excelleth  all  things  else  \ 


THE    GLORY.  197 

For  all  being  has  its  more  and  its  less  per- 
fect parts.  And  its  glory  is  that  which  is 
most  perfect  about  it,  to  which  of  course 
that  which  is  less  perfect  has,  according  to 
its  measure,  contributed.  Light  is  the  glory 
of  the  sun.  Transparency  is  the  glory  of 
the  stream.  The  flower  is  the  glory  of  the 
plant.  The  soul  is  the  glory  of  the  man. 
The  face  is  the  glory  of  the  body.  And  this 
glory  is  strangely  manifold  :  "  There  is  one 
glory  of  the  sun,  and  another  glory  of  the 
moon,  and  another  glory  of  the  stars,  for 
star  differeth  from  star  in  glory." 

What  is  really  glorious  is  so  hidden,  so 
blighted,  so  intermixed  with  deformity  and 
corruption  here,  that  Scripture  always 
speaks  as  if  the  whole  glory  were  yet  in  re- 


in its  present  exhibition,  compared  with  all  its  former 
radiations,  it  excelleth  itself.  .  .  Glory  is  then  to  shine 
in  its  noou-day  strength  and  vigour.  'Tis  then  in  its 
meridian.  Here  the  riches  of  glory  are  to  be  displayed, 
certain  treasures  of  glory,  the  plenitude  and  magni- 
ficence of  glory." — Howe's  Blessedness  of  the  Right* 


s  3 


198  THE    GLORY. 

serve, — none  of  it  yet  revealed.  So  that  when 
He  came  to  earth  who  was  "  the  brightness 
of  Jehovah's  glory,"  he  was  not  recognised 
as  the  possessor  of  such  glory ;  it  was  hid- 
den ;  it  shone  not.  Few  eyes  saw  any  glory 
at  all  in  him  ;  none  saw  the  extent  or  great- 
ness of  it.  Even  in  his  case  it  did  not  ap- 
pear what  he  was  and  what  he  shall  be, 
when  he  comes  "to  be  ylorified  in  his 
saints."  * 

All  that  is  glorious,  whether  visible  or 
invisible,  material  or  immaterial,  natural 
or  spiritual,  must  have  its  birth-place  in 
God.  "  Of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to 
him  are  all  things^  to  whom  be  glory  for 
ever."  (Rom.  xi.  oQ.)  A\\  glorious  things 
come  forth  out  of  him,  and  have  their  seeds, 
or  germs,  or  patterns  in  himself.     We  say 

*  That  which  the  world  calls  glory  Scripture  casts 
scorn  upon,  as  "a  vain  show," — "lighter  than  vanity," 
mere  emptiness ;  while  its  name  for  glory  is  weight  or 
solidity,  "i'i33  = — to  which  the  apostle  seems  to  refer 
when  he  speaks  of  the  "  weight  of  glory."  2  Ck)x; 
ir.  17. 


THE    GLORY.  199 

of  that  flower,  "  how  beautiful ;  "  but  the 
type  of  its  beauty, — the  beauty  of  which  it 
is  the  faint  expression,  is  in  God.  We  say 
of  that  star,  "  how  bright ;"  but  the  bright- 
ness which  it  represents  or  declares,  is  in 
God.  So  of  every  object  above  and  beneath. 
And  so  especially  shall  it  be  seen  in  the 
objects  of  glory  which  shall  surround  us  in 
the  kingdom  of  God.  Of  each  thing  there, 
as  of  the  city  itself,  it  shall  be  said,  "  it 
has  the  glory  of  God."  (Rev.  xxi.  11.) 

Glory,  then,  is  our  inheritance.  The  best, 
the  richest,  the  brightest,  the  most  beau- 
tiful of  all  that  is  in  God,  of  good,  and  rich, 
and  bright,  and  beautiful,  shall  be  ours. 
The  glory  that  fills  heaven  above,  the  glory 
that  spreads  over  the  earth  beneath,  shall 
be  ours.  Bat  while  "  the  glory  of  the  ter- 
restrial "  shall  be  ours,  yet  in  a  truer  sense 
'*  the  glory  of  the  celestial  shall  be  ours." 
Already  by  faith  we  have  taken  our  place 
amid  things  celestial,  "  being  quickened 
together  with  Christ,  and  raised  up  with 


200  THE    GLORY. 

him,  and  made  to  sit  with  him  in  heavenly 
places."  (Eph.  ii.  6.)  Thus  we  have  already 
claimed  the  celestial  as  our  own;  and  having 
risen  w^th  Christ,  we  "  set  our  affection 
upon  things  above,  not  on  things  on  the 
earth.^^  (Col.  iii.  2.)  Far-ranging  dominion 
shall  be  ours  ;  with  all  varying  shades  and 
kinds  of  glory  shall  we  be  encompassed, 
circle  beyond  circle  stretching  over  the 
universe ;  but  it  is  the  celestial  glory  that 
is  so  truly  ours,  as  the  redeemed  and  the 
risen;  and  in  the  midst  of  that  celestial 
glory  shall  be  the  family  mansion,  the 
church's  dwelling-place  and  palace, — our 
true  home  for  eternity. 

All  that  awaits  us  is  glorious.  The.re  is  an 
inheritance  in  reversion  ;  and  it  is  "  an  in- 
heritance incorruptible,  and  undehled,  and 
that  fadeth  not  away."  (1  Pet.  i.  4.)  There 
is  a  rest,  a  sabbath-keeping  in  store  for  us 
(Heb.  iv.  9) ;  and  this  "  rest  shall  be  glo- 
rious." (Isa.  xi.  iO.)  The  kingdom  which 
we  claim  is  a  glorious  kingdom.  The  crown 


THE    GLORY, 


201 


which  we  are  to  jsvear  is  a  glorious  crown. 
The  city  of  our  habitation  is  a  glorious 
city.  The  garments  which  shall  clothe  us 
are  garments  "  for  glory  and  for  beauty." 
Our  bodies  shall  be  glorious  bodies,  fashion- 
ed after  the  hkeness  of  Christ's  "  glorious 
body."  (Phil.  iii.  21.)  Our  society  shall  be 
that  of  the  glorified.  Our  songs  shall  be 
songs  of  glory.  And  of  the  region  which 
we  are  to  inhabit  it  is  said,  that  "  the  glory 
of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is 
the  light  thereof."  (Rev.  xxi.  23.) 

The  hope  of  this  glory  cheers  us.  From 
under  a  canopy  of  night  we  look  out  upon 
these  promised  scenes  of  blessedness,  and 
we  are  comforted.  Our  dark  thoughts  are 
softened  down,  even  when  they  are  not 
wholly  brightened.  For  day  is  near,  and 
joy  is  near,  and  the  warfare  is  ending,  and 
the  tear  shall  be  dried  up,  and  the  shame 
be  lost  in  the  glory,  and  "  we  shall  be  pre- 
sented faultless  before  the  presence  of  hi» 
GLORY  with  exceeding  joy." 


202  THE    GLORY. 

Then  the  fruit  of  patience  and  of  faith 
shall  appear,  and  the  hope  we  have  so  long 
been  clinging  to  shall  not  put  us  to  shame. 
Then  shall  we  triumph  and  praise.  Then 
shall  we  be  avenged  on  death,  and  pain,  and 
sickness.  Then  shall  every  wound  be  more 
than  healed.  Egypt  enslaves  us  no  more. 
Babylon  leads  us  captive  no  more.  The 
Red  Sea  is  crossed,  the  wilderness  is  passed, 
Jordan  lies  behind  us,  and  we  are  in  Jeru- 
salem !  There  is  no  more  curse — there  is  no 
more  night.  The  tabernacle  of  God  is  with 
us ;  in  that  tabernacle  he  dwells,  and  we 
dwell  with  him. 

It  is  "  the  God  of  all  grace  "  who  "  has 
called  us  to  his  eternal  glory  by  Christ 
Jesus."  It  is  "  when  the  chief  Shepherd 
shall  appear,  that  we  shall  receive  the 
crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away."  (1 
Pet.  V.  4,  10.)  And  this  "  after  we  have 
suffered  a  while,"  and  by  suffering  have 
been  *'  made  perfect,  stablished,  strength- 
ened, settled."  So  that  suffering  is  not  lost 


THE   GLORY.  203 

upon  us.  It  prepares  us  for  the  glory.  And 
the  hope  of  that  glory,  as- well  as  the  know- 
ledge of  the  discipline  through  which  we  are 
passing,  and  of  the  process  of  preparation 
going  on  in  us,  sustains  us,  nay,  teaches  us 
to  '^  glory  in  tribulation."  This  is  comfort, 
nay,  it  is  happiness.  Strange  in  the  world's 
eye,  but  not  strange  in  ours !  All  that  the 
world  has  is  but  a  poor  imitation  of  hap- 
piness and  consolation;  ours  is  real,  even 
now  ;  how  much  more  hereafter  !  Nor  will 
a  brief  delay  and  a  sore  conflict  lessen  the 
weight  of  coming  glory.  Nay,  they  will 
add  to  it ;  and  it  is  worth  waiting  for,  it  is 
worth  suffering  for,  it  is  worth  fighting  for. 
It  is  so  sure  of  coming,  and  so  blessed  when 
it  comes. 

"  The  mass  of  glory,'*  says  Howe,  "  is  yet 
in  reserve ;  we  are  not  yet  so  high  as  the 
highest  heavens."  All  this  is  hanging  over 
us, — inviting  us  on,  stirring  us  up, loosening 
us  from  things  present,  so  that  the  pain  of 
loss,  or  sickness,  or  bereavement,  falls  more 


204  THE    GLORY. 

gently  on  us,  and  tends  but  to  make  U8 
less  vain  and  light, — more  thoroughly  in 
earnest. 

"  That  they  may  behold  my  glory,"  the 
Lord  pleaded  for  his  own.  This  is  the  sura 
of  all.  Other  glories  there  will  be,  as  we 
have  seen  ;  but  this  is  the  sum  of  all.  It  is 
the  very  utmost  that  even  "  the  Lord  of 
glory  "could  ask  for  them.  Having  sought 
this  he  could  seek  no  more ;  he  could  go 
no  farther.  And  our  response  to  this  is, 
"  Let  me  see  thy  glory  ;  "  yes,  and  the  glad 
confidence  in  which  we  rest  is  this,  "  As 
for  me,  I  will  behold  thy  face  in  righteous- 
ness; I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake 
with  thy  likeness."  This  is  our  ambition. 
Divine  and  blessed  ambition,  in  which 
there  is  no  pride,  no  presumption,  and  no 
excess !  Nothing  less  can  satisfy  than  the 
directest,  fullest  vision  of  incarnate  glory. 
Self-emptied  before  the  Infinite  Majesty, 
and  conscious  of  being  wholly  unworthy 
even  of  a  servant's  place,  we  yet  feel  as  if 


THE    GLORY.  205 

drawn  irresistibly  into  the  innermost  circle 
and  centre,  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than 
the  fulness  of  Him  that  filleth  all  in  all. 

"  The  glory  which  thou  gavest  me  I 
have  given  them."  (John  xvii.  22.)  No  less 
than  this,  both  in  kind  and  amount,  is  the 
glory  in  reserve,  according  to  the  promise 
of  the  Lord.  The  glory  given  to  him  he 
makes  over  to  them !  They  "  are  made 
partakers  *f  Christ,"  and  all  that  he  has  is 
theirs.  Nay,  and  he  says,  "  I  have  given  ;" 
as  if  it  were  already  theirs  by  his  gift,  just 
as  truly  as  it  was  his  by  the  Father's  gift. 
He  receives  it  from  the  Father  only  for  the 
purpose  of  immediately  handing  it  over  to 
them !  So  that  even  here  they  can  say, 
*^  This  glory  is  already  mine,  and  I  must 
live  as  one  to  whom  such  infinite  glory  be- 
longs." "  Beholding,  as  in  a  glass,  this  glory 
of  the  Lord,  they  are  changed  into  the  same 
image  from  glory  to  glory."  (2  Cor.  iii.  18.) 
To  fret  or  despond  is  sad  inconsistency  in 
one  who  can  say,  even  under  sorest  pressures, 


206  THE    GLORY. 

"  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this  pre- 
sent time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  the  glory  that  shall  he  revealed  in  us.'* 
Look  at  them  by  themselves,  and  they  do 
seem  at  times  most  overwhelming ;  place 
them  side  by  side  with  the  eternal  glory, 
and  they  disappear. 

"  The  riches  of  his  glory,"  says  the  apos- 
tle in  one  place  (Rom.  ix.  23)  ;  '*  the  riches 
of  the  glory  of  his  inheritance  in  the  saints," 
writes  he  in  another.  (Eph.  i.  18.)  Strange 
expressions  these  !  Tliey  carry  us  up  to  a 
height  of  sucl'  infinite  glory  and  joy,  that 
we  feel  bewildered  and  overwhelmed.  Just 
as  there  are  "  rVhes  of  grace,"  and  "  riches 
of  mercy,"  and  '•'  '-iches  of  love,"  and  "riches 
of  wisdom,"  so  ttno  are  "  riches  of  glory  ;" 
glory  in  abundance-., — such  as  shall  make 
us  rich  indeed ;  glorw  spread  over  our  whole 
inheritance,  so  that  t-v  shall  "  have  all  and 
abound."  Nay,  this  [^ory  is  that  which 
God  counts  his  riche*',  that  which  he 
reckons  the  perfection  o'  ^  is  inheritance, — ■ 


THE    GLORY.  207 

the  ver)  essence  of  its  beauty  and  its  bless- 
edness. 

"  The  liberty  of  the  glory  of  the  children 
of  God,"  writes  the  apostle,  (Horn.  viii.21,) 
—thereby  telling  us   that  there  is  a  glory 
which  is  the  peculiar  property  of  the  saints, 
—a  glory  of  which  they  can  say,  it  is  our 
own,  thereby  marking  it  out  from  the  glory 
of  all  other  creatures.     This  glory  contains 
lihertij.     It  sets  free  those  who  possess  it. 
Corruption  had  brought  with  it  chains  and 
bondage;  glory  brings  with  it  divine  liberty  I 
It  is  not  the  liberty  that  brings  the  glory;  it 
is  the  glory  that  brings  the  liberty .     Blessed 
liberty!  Freedom  from  every  bondage !  Not 
only  the  bondage  of  corruption  and  sin  and 
death,  but  the  bondage  of  sorrow  I     For  is 
not  sorrow  a  bondage  ?     Are  not  its  chains 
sharp  and  heavy  ?     From  this  bondage  of 
tribulation  the  glory  sets  us  eternally  free. 
It  is  the  last  fetter,  save  that  of  the  grave, 
that  is  struck  from  our  bruised  limbs,  but 
when  it  is  broken,  it  is  broken  for  ever  I 
T  2 


208  THE   GLORY. 

And  this  liberty  which  the  glory  brings 
to  us  is  one  which  shall  extend  to  the  un- 
conscious creation  around  us.  We  brought 
that  creation  into  bondage,  covering  it 
with  dishonour,  and  making  it  the  prey  of 
corruption.  It  now  groans  and  travails 
under  this  sore  bondage.  But  as  it  has 
shared  our  bondage,  it  is  also  to  share  our 
liberty ;  and  that  same  glory  which  brings 
liberty  to  us  shall  introduce  the  oppressed 
and  dishonoured  creation  into  the  same 
blessed  freedom  !  O  longed-for  consumma- 
tion !  O  joyful  hope !  O  welcome  day, 
when  the  Bringer  of  this  glory  shall  arrive, 
and  the  voice  be  heard  from  heaven,  "  Be- 
hold, I  make  all  things  new." 

Nor  is  it  liberty  only  which  this  glory 
contains  in  it,  but  power  also,  as  it  is  writ- 
ten, "strengthened  with  all  might  according 
to  the  power  of  his  glory."  (Col.  i.  11.) 
This  glory  has,  even  now,  a  power-giving 
energy,  whereby  we  are  strengthened  ''  to 
all  patience  and  long-sutrering  with  joyful- 


THE    GLORY.  209 

ness."  Thus  "  rejoicing  in  hope  of  the 
glory  of  God,"  (Rom.  v.  2,)  we  are  fitted 
for  all  manner  of  tribulation  and  endurance. 
Though  still  among  the  things  "  not  seen," 
it  not  only  flings  forward  a  radiance  which 
brightens  our  path,  but  iheds  down  a 
strength  which  enables  us  to  "run  with 
patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us." 
And  so,  in  an  unholy  world,  we  "  walk 
worthy  of  Him  who  hath  called  us  unto  his 
kingdom  and  glory, ^'  (1  Thess.  ii.  12,)  hav- 
ing that  prayer  fulfilled  in  us,"  The  God  of 
all  grace,  who  hath  called  us  unto  his  eter- 
nal glory  by  Jesus  Christ,  after  that  ye 
have  suffered  a  while,  make  you  perfect, 
stablish,  strengthen,  settle  you."  (1  Pet. 
V.  10.) 

"  Christ  in  you  the  hope  of  glory.^^  An 
indwelling  Christ  is  our  earnest,  our  pledge, 
our  hope  of  glory.  Having  him,  we  have 
all  that  is  his,  whether  present  or  tc 
come.  He  is  the  link  that  binds  together 
the  here  and  the  hereafter.    We  died  with 

T    6 


210  THE   GLORY. 

him,  we  went  down  into  the  tomb  with 
him,  we  rose  with  him,  and  our  life  is  now 
hid  with  him  in  God  ;  hut  "when  he  who 
is  our  life  shall  appear,  then  shall  we  also 
appear  with  him  in  glory."  (Col.  iii,  4.) 

The  joy  with  which  we  rejoice  is  a  joy 
"  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory/'  or  more 
literally,  a  "glorified  joy;"  a  joy  such 
as  Paul  had  when  caught  up  into  paradise ; 
a  joy  such  as  John's  when  placed  in  vision 
within  sight  of  the  celestial  city ;  a  joy 
into  whose  very  essence  the  thoughts  of 
glory  enter ;  a  joy  which  makes  the  soul 
which  possesses  it  feel  as  if  it  were  already 
compassed  about  ^yith  glory,  as  if  it  had 
''  come  to  Mount  Zion,  to  the  city  of  the 
living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  to  an 
innumerable  company  of  angels,  to  the 
general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first- 
born which  are  written  in  heaven."  (Heb. 
xii.  22.) 

"The  glorious  gospel  of  Christ,'*  says 
A.e  apostle  (2  Cor.  iv.  4);  and  again,  *'  the 


THE    GLORY.  211 

glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God/*  (I 
Tim.  i.  11);  or,  more  literally,  "  the  gos- 
pel of  the  glory  of  Christ,"  that  is,  "  the 
good  news  about  the  glory  of  Christ," 
and  '^  the  good  news  about  the  glory  of  the 
blessed  God."  As  it  is  "  the  gospel  of  the 
kingdom,"  or  good  news  about  "  the  king- 
dom," that  is  preached,  so  it  is  good  news 
about  "  the  glory."  These  good  news  God 
has  sent,  and  is  still  sending  to  this  world. 
In  believing  them,  and  receiving  God's  re- 
cord concerning  the  glory,  we  become  par- 
takers of  it,  and  continue  to  be  so,  "  if  we 
hold  the  beginning  of  our  confidence  sted- 
fast  unto  the  end."  These  good  news  most 
fully  meet  our  case,  however  sad  or  sinful, 
and  shed  light  into  our  souls  even  in  their 
darkest  and  most  desponding  hours. 

Our  present  "  light  affliction,  which  is 
but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far 
more  exceeding  and  eternal  w^eight  of 
GLORY."  So  that  glory  is  not  merely  the 
issue  of  the  tribulation,  but  in  some  sense 


212  THE    GLORY. 

its  product.  Tribulation  is  the  soil,  and 
glory  is  the  blossom  and  the  fruit.  The 
soil  is  rough  and  unseemly,  but  the  pro- 
duce is  altogether  perfect.  It  may  seem 
strange  that  out  of  such  a  field  there 
should  spring  verdure  so  fresh  and  fruit  so 
divine.  Yet  we  know  that  such  is  the 
case.  How  much  we  owe  to  that  unlikely 
soil !  Not  only  do  all  things  work  together 
for  good  to  us,  but  they  as  truly  work  to- 
gether for  glory. 

Faith  lays  hold  of  this  and  prizes  tribu- 
lation, nay,  glories  in  it ;  so  realizing  the 
joy  as  to  lose  sight  of  the  sorrow,  save  as 
contributing  to  the  joy ;  so  absorbed  in  the 
glory  as  to  forget  the  shame,  excepting  in 
so  far  as  it  is  the  parent  and  precursor  of 
the  glory. 

Most  needful  is  it  that  we  should  realize 
these  prospects,  these  glimpses  which  God 
has  given  us  of  what  we  are  yet  to  be.  It 
is  not  merely  lawful  to  do  so  for  the  relief 
of  the  laden  spirit,  but  it  is  most  vitally 


THE    GLORY.  21^ 

important  to  do  so  for  the  health  of  out 
soul,  for  our  growth  in  grace,  and  for  en- 
abling  us  to  press  on  with  cheerful  energy 
in  the  path  of  service  towards  God  and 
usefulness  to  our  brother  saints  or  fel- 
low men. 

The  man  of  sorrows  had  joy  set  before 
him.  And  it  was  for  this  that  he  endured  the 
cross,  despising   the   shame.  (Heb.  xii.  2. ) 
He  needed  it,  and  so  do  we ;  for  He  who 
sanctifieth  and  they  who  are  sanctified  are 
all  of  one.    He  found  in  it  strength  for  the 
bearing  of  the  cross  and  the  endurance  of 
the  shame.    So  may  we,  for  as  the  path  he 
trod  is  the  same  that  is  given  us  to  tread 
in,  so  the  strength  is  to  be  found  where  our 
forerunner  found  it.     There  is  joy  in  store 
for  us,  even  as  for  him ;    joy  not  only  like 
his  own,  but  his  own  very  joy.    (John  xv. 
11.)     This  makes  us  wilUng  to  bear  the 
cross  in  all  its  weight  and  sharpness  ;  nay, 
it  lightens  it  SQ  that  ofttimes  we  do  not  feel 
its  pressure.     We  can  glory  both  in  the 


f  14  THE    GLORY. 

cross  and  the  shame.  We  hare  less  of 
these  than  he  had,  and  we  have  all  his 
consolation,  all  his  joy  to  the  full. 

When  this  is  los^  sight  of,  selfish  melan- 
choly often  fastens  on  us.  We  hrood 
over  our  griefs  till  they  engross  ns  en- 
tirely, to  the  shutting  out  of  all  else.  We 
magnify  them ;  we  spread  them  out  and 
turn  them  over  on  every  side  in  order  to 
find  out  the  gloomiest.  We  take  credit  to 
ourselves  for  endurance,  and  thus  feed  our 
pride  and  self-importance.  We  fret  under 
them,  and  at  the  same  time  grow  vain  at 
heing  the  objects  of  so  much  sympathy — at 
having  so  many  eyes  upc.i  us,  and  so  many 
words  of  comfort  addressed  to  us. 

Nothing  can  be  more  unhealthy  thar 
this  state  of  soul,  i.  r  n,  jre  unlike  that  in 
which  God  expects  a  saint  to  be.  It  shuts 
us  into  the  narrow  circle  of  self.  It  con- 
tracts as  well  as  distorts  our  vision.  It 
vitiates  our  spiritual  tastes,  it  lowers  our 
spiritual  tone^  it  withers  and  shrivels  up 


/BiL    GLORY.  216 

our  spiritual  belntr,  unfitting  us  for  all 
offices  of  calm  And  ^entle  love,  nay,  hinder- 
ing the  right  dv«;harge  of  plain  and  com- 
mon duty.  1.  is  in  iiself  a  sore  disease, 
and  is  the  source  of  other  diseases  withcMt 
number. 

To  meet  this  unhealthy  tendency  God 
seeks  to  draw  us  out  of  ourselves.  He  does 
so  in  holding  up  the  cross  for  us  to  look 
upon  and  be  healed :  but  he  also  does  this 
by  exhibiting  the  crown  and  throne.  The 
cross  does  not  annihilate  man's  natural 
concern  for  self,  but  it  loosens  our  thoughts 
from  this,  by  showing  us,  upon  the  cross. 
One  to  whose  care  we  may  safely  intrust 
self  with  all  its  interests,  and  in  whose 
pierced  hands  it  will  be  far  better  provided 
for  than  in  our  own.  So  the  vision  of  the 
glory  does  not  make  away  with  self,  but  it 
absorbs  it,  and  elevates  it,  by  revealing  the 
kingdom  in  which  God  has  made  such 
blessed  and  enduring  provision  for  us,  as  to 
make  it  appear  worse  than  folly  in  us  to 


216  THE    GLORY. 

brood  over  our  case,  and  make  self  the  ob- 
ject of  our  sad  and  anxious  care.  If  we  are 
to  have  glory  as  surely  and  as  cheaply  as 
the  lilies  have  their  clothing,  or  the  ravena 
their  food,  why  be  so  solicitous  about  self  2 
Or  why  think  about  self  at  all,  save  to  re- 
member and  to  rejoice  that  God  has  taken 
all  our  concerns  into  his  own  keeping  for 
eternity  ? 

Thus  God  beguiles  us  away  from  our 
griefs  by  giving  us  something  else  to  muse 
over, — something  more  worthy  of  oui 
thoughts.  He  allures  us  from  the  present, 
where  all  is  dark  and  uncomely,  into  the 
future,  where  all  is  bright  and  fair.  He 
takes  us  by  the  hand  and  leads  us,  as  a 
father  his  child,  out  from  the  gloomy  region 
which  we  are  sadly  pacing,  with  our  eye 
upon  the  ground,  bent  only  upon  nourishing 
our  sorrows,  into  fields  where  all  is  fresh 
and  Eden-like ;  so  that,  ere  we  are  aware, 
joy,  or  at  least  the  faint  reflection  of  it,  has 
stolen  into  our  hearts,  and  lifted  up  oui 


THE   GLOKI.  217 

heavy  eyes.  He  would  not  have  us  abiding 
always  in  the  church-yard,  or  sitting  upon 
the  turf  beneath  which  love  is  buried, — as  if 
the  tomb  to  which  we  are  clinging  were  our 
hope,  not  resurrection  beyond  it; — ^he  would 
have  us  to  come  forth ;  and  having  allured 
us  away  from  that  scene  of  death,  he  bids 
us  look  upwards,  upbraiding  us  wifch  our 
unbelief  and  folly,  and  saying  to  us, — "  They 
whom  you  love  are  yonder ;  ere  long  He 
who  is  their  life  and  yours  shall  appear, 
and  you  shall  rejoin  each  other,  each  of  you 
embracing,  not  a  weeping,  sickly  fellow 
mortal,  but  a  glorified  saint,  set  free  from 
pain  and  sin." 
•  There  is  nothing  more  healthy  and  ge- 
nial for  the  soul  than  these  anticipations 
of  the  morning,  and  of  morning-glory. 
They  are  not  visionary,  save  in  the  sense  in 
which  faith  is  "  the  substance  of  things 
hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen.'' 
They  transfuse  the  life  of  heaven  through 
our  frame,  either,  on  the  one  hand,  making 


218  THB   GLORY. 

our  languid  pulse  to  beat  more  swiftly,  or, 
on  the  other,  our  feverish  pulse  to  throb 
more  calmly  and  evenly.  They  act  as  re- 
gulators of  the  sonl  in  its  wild  and  incon- 
stant movements,  neither  allowing  us  to 
sink  too  low  nor  to  soar  too  high.  They 
tend  to  steady  our  extreme  impulses  by 
acting  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  weight  of 
grief  which  so  crushes  us  with  its  pres- 
sure. 

They  withdraw  us  from  self  and  self- 
broodings,  they  widen  the  circle  of  oui 
sympathies,  and  throw  back  into  the  dis- 
tance the  fence  of  exclusiveness,  which,  in 
times  of  suifering,  we  are  apt  to  throw  up 
around  ourselves.  They  check  mere  sen- 
timentality, and  forbid  us  to  indulge  the 
flow  of  grief  for  its  own  luxury.  They  pro 
hibit  morbid  gloom,  which  loves  to  shut 
out  socie^,  and  chooses  loneliness.  They 
fill  us  with  energy  for  facing  the  toils,  and 
with  ready  courage  for  braving  the  dangers 
of  the  night;     They  animate  us  with  the 


THE    GLOKr.  219 

?alm  but  indomitable  confidence  of  hope, 
—a  hope  which  expands  and  brightens  aa 
its  object  approaches. 

The  morning !  That  is  our  watchword. 
Our  matin  and  even-song  are  full  of  it.  It 
gives  the  hue  to  life, — imparting  colour 
to  that  which  is  colourless,  and  freshening 
that  which  is  faded.  It  is  the  sum  and 
term  of  our  hopes.  Nothing  else  will  do 
for  us  or  for  our  world, — a  world  over  which 
the  darkness  gathers  thicker  as  the  years 
run  out.  Stars  may  help  to  make  the  sky 
less  gloomy;  but  they  are  not  the  sun. 
And  besides,  clouds  have  now  wrapped 
them  so  that  they  are  no  longer  visible* 
The  firmament  is  almost  without  a  star. 
Torches  and  beacon-lights  avail  not.  They 
make  no  impression  upon  the  darkness ;  it 
is  so  deep,  so  real,  so  palpable.  We  might 
give  up  all  for  lost,  were  we  not  assured 
that  there  is  a  sun,  and  that  it  is  hastening 
to  rise. 

The  church's  pilgrimage  is  nearly  done, 


220  THE   GLORY. 

Yet  she  is  not  less  a  pilgrim  as  jts  end 
draws  nigh.  Nay,  more  so.  The  last  stage 
of  the  journey  is  the  dreariest  for  her.  Her 
path  lies  through  the  thickest  darkness  that 
the  world  has  yet  felt.  It  seems  as  if  it 
were  only  hy  the  fitful  blaze  of  conflagra- 
tions that  we  can  now  shape  our  way.  It 
is  the  sound  of  falling  kingdoms  that  is 
guiding  us  onward.  It  is  the  fragments  of 
broken  thrones  lying  across  our  path  that 
assures  us  that  our  route  is  the  true  one, 
and  that  its  end  is  near, — that  end,  the 
morning  with  its  songs ;  and  in  that  morn- 
ing, a  kingdom ; ,  and  in  that  kingdom, 
glory ;  and  in  that  glory,  the  everlasting 
rest,  the  sabbath  of  eternity. 


TBB  MMO, 


DATE  DUE 

jSiic-Ji.A 

aSm 

V     ""^ 

J 

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'•''  '#i"' 

CAYLOKO 

PHINTEOINUS   A. 

